


Elizabeth in Wonderland: The King's Pet

by McNuggets



Series: Those Crazier South Park Days [7]
Category: South Park
Genre: Aftercare, Aged-Up Character(s), Alice In Wonderland AU, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, BDSM, Caning, F/M, Master/Pet, Spanking, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McNuggets/pseuds/McNuggets
Summary: A woman displaced from her world goes to seek refuge in another, only to be made into a prisoner by a ruthless King. When she proves to be stronger-willed than he initially thought, he becomes interested in her, in more ways than one.Lustful attraction slowly warps into unyielding love.
Relationships: Eric Cartman/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Those Crazier South Park Days [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776412
Kudos: 3





	Elizabeth in Wonderland: The King's Pet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MinnowShark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinnowShark/gifts).



> I miss the interaction between Elizabeth and Cartman (they're hot together shush).
> 
> This is an indulgence for indulgence's sake. Again some elements were taken from Heart no Kuni no Alice, yet I put a personal spin to it.

She was on the front page of every major newspaper and magazine. The engineering prodigy who took the world by storm. Her face always had that megawatt smile, the same multi-colored eyes that could catch everyone’s attention. She was always a topic, the woman who was going to revolutionize the weapons industry. Alice Horowitz was the name on everyone’s lips.

One would think that as her sister, Elizabeth Horowitz would be happy that her twin was achieving her dreams.

It wasn’t the case, not at all.

It was a trend between them, ever since they were children. Alice was always at the forefront while Elizabeth stayed in the background. Alice was loved by everyone and treated like she was a princess while Elizabeth was treated like an afterthought. Alice had friends among friends among friends while Elizabeth was stuck with enough social anxiety that kept her from being able to speak to anyone.

Elizabeth had the tendency to become violent if she couldn’t handle the situation placed before her.

Elizabeth was always quiet, being overlooked for nearly everything when she failed to speak up.

Near the start of Junior year, she found her voice, and that voice was loud and arrogant, full of vitriol and hate. She made sure to voice her opinion and insult anyone she deemed as stupid. While Alice was well liked, Elizabeth wasn’t. She could barely keep a friend with her attitude, much less be anyone’s romantic choice.

By the time it was Senior year all the boys were aptly afraid of her, while the girls would whisper behind her back.

Now here she was, two years into college, trying to work for her PhD in Psychiatry, feeling very, very displaced with life. Even when Alice was over a hundred miles away, Elizabeth was still being overshadowed by her. She wasn’t Elizabeth Horowitz anymore, she was Alice Horowitz’s sister. She had tried so hard to get her own identity separate from Alice, and again she manages to take it away without even being there.

All Elizabeth wanted was to be looked at, for once in her life, she wanted to be someone’s first thought. She wanted people to see her for her talent, not just her rough personality. Underneath the violent hostility stood an elegant and classy lady with intelligence and grace. Someone who was a violin prodigy since the age of three. Her talents had been overshadowed by her sister’s time and time again, while her thorny exterior kept away everyone who only saw her at superficial value. They didn’t matter, if people didn’t want to put the time and effort to know her, then they weren’t worth her time.

Being a student of Psychiatry, one would think that her thorns were an excuse to push others away before there was a chance at a connection. Even if that were the case, she had gotten used to being so alone for so long that she didn’t care for trivial things like _friendship_ or _love_. Her black heart was wrapped in thorns, and nothing could ever remove them.

At least, that’s what she thought…

* * *

She stared onward at the towering library that was in front of her, books in her hand as well as her bag. Aside from the dorm that she lived alone at, she would easily call this place her home. To her, books were more interesting than people. Books had more depth to them and contained stories that didn’t bore her. She stepped forward to enter after looking at the sky, noting that it was about to rain.

She failed to bring her umbrella with her, and just as she passed through the threshold she could hear thunder wracking the sky and hear the soft patter of rain. She turned around to keep her eyes on the falling rain, looking down at her shoes. All she had on were loafers, leather at that. She idly wondered how long the rain would last, and if it did then she was ready to stay here as long as possible.

When there wasn’t any other thing to look at, Elizabeth turned around and proceeded to enter the library. She sighed at the silence that the library brought, it was one of few places where she could gather her thoughts in peace. She didn’t have to hear anything, not tawdry gossip, not personal politics, not even mentions of her _sister_. This place was a sanctuary against everything she didn’t want to hear, her safe place.

Elizabeth ascended the stairwell, going from one floor to the next, passing that one until she was on the third floor, the most unused floor in the building. It’s where the law books were kept, the only person who would come here would be potential lawyers or the random couple that wanted a private spot to share intimacy.

With every aisle she passed the more she counted, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, making her way towards a lonely alcove on the nineteenth aisle, a place she picked for herself ever since she stepped foot here in her freshman year. She sat down, putting her leather-bound bag onto the table and folding her arms atop of it, settling her head down. She could hear the rain patter against the glass windows.

“You wouldn’t believe…”

Elizabeth sighed, _of course_ she wouldn’t be alone. She tried to tune the voice out, but it only came with a second.

“No way!”

If they thought they were whispering they were wrong, and Elizabeth stood up, feeling prepared to storm over to where they sat so she could yell at them to shut the fuck up.

“They’re engaged.”

Elizabeth turned to where the voices were, stepping closer to them.

“Wait isn’t that Elizabeth’s sister?” The voice asked, and Elizabeth stopped, feeling her hands tremble. She ducked out of the way just as soon as she was visible, pressing her back to the shelf.

“Oh god, they don’t even look the same.”

“You wouldn’t believe that _she’s_ related to _her_.” The first voice scoffed. “They seem like polar opposites.”

“Well someone had to be the mean-tempered bitch.” The second voice laughed with the first, and Elizabeth sucked in a breath.

“So Alice is engaged?”

“Yeah, that’s what the paper said. To a…Kenny McCormick.” A rustle of papers, “Holy crap he’s hot!”

“Of course she’d marry a hot guy.”

Elizabeth touched her trembling hand, so her sister was engaged? She had never gotten a call or a text from her sister that she was seeing someone. Was she so unimportant now that Alice didn’t care anymore? Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, of course she wouldn’t care.

“Can you imagine Elizabeth with a hot guy like that?”

“Oh god no, I can’t imagine her with a guy period. She’s a horrible person, who would even love that personality?”

“What personality? Bitch isn’t a personality. She’s going to grow old and die alone.”

Elizabeth pushed away from the bookshelves and stormed further from the conversation, forgetting her bag and books. She needed to isolate herself for a moment. The tears fell despite her knowing better. She may have been an outspoken and temperamental person, but it didn’t mean that she didn’t have _emotions_.

She found another stairwell and ascended it, coming to a door that red ‘Staff Only’. Her eyes lingered on the door, ready to just sit on the steps and cry her eyes out, but instead trying the handle. When it opened she carefully walked inside a dark room. It looked to be an attic, lit up only by the windows on either side. Elizabeth shut the door softly, leaning against it. Her eyes were bleary with tears, but she pressed forward, roaming them across the room. There were nothing but boxes and more boxes, the surfaces covered in a fine sheet of dust. At the far wall was something tall as a door and as wide as two, a mirror with gilded frames. She approached it, staring into the refection. Hers.

Tears continued to fall. How much emotional damage can she take in one lifetime? It would be easy if their words didn’t get to her, it would be so damn easy if she could stop crying. Even though she had a black heart with all those thorns, outside forces were still able to spear through all of that and stab her. Always compared to her sister, always seen as a horrible monster. Always overlooked, always ignored. Always, always, always.

Elizabeth leaned forward, resting her forehead on the mirror’s surface. “All I want is to go somewhere where my sister doesn’t exist.” She whispered to herself, “I want to be important, just for once in my life.”

Her eyes shut, and she couldn’t see the surface of the mirror beginning to ripple. Gravity soon gave way and she suddenly fell right through the mirror’s surface, crying out as she stumbled forward. She opened her eyes again and looked around, finding herself surrounded by smoky lilac mist. “What?” Elizabeth turned around, only to find nothing. Where was she?

_“This way.”_

Elizabeth turned again, taking a hesitant step forward. She was growing confused, frowning. “Have I fallen asleep?” She wondered aloud, wiping the tears from her cheeks. It wouldn’t be the first time she had cried herself to sleep. She continued to move forward, seeing a glint of light in the distance. Her footfalls became faster and she started to run, finding a door that was coming closer and closer. As soon as she was near she slowed down, gazing at it.

The door was simple, made of ebony. There was nothing special about this door, only the ornate knob that was made of silver, shaped like a spade. Elizabeth stared at the door for a long time, looking around again before reaching for the knob and opening it.

When she stepped through she found herself in a room, the sound of heavy rainfall the only noise that she could hear. Though, this didn’t look like the library at all, but a church. She walked off of a platform, frowning. The church was empty, full of ebony pews and rich red carpets. The stained-glass windows were of spades and black roses, only greens and reds decorating the windows along with black.

Turning, she found that she was staring at her own reflection, and the door had become a tall mirror with silver decorations. She sighed, and turned again, taking a tentative step forward and walking along the aisle, wondering where she was. This church wasn’t one she’s seen, not that she’s been in a church before. The only sound that accompanied her was the muddled sound of heavy rain. She made her way forward, heading to the double doors and opening them, stepping outside.

Elizabeth stopped as soon as she passed the door, going still at what she saw. It looked like a dreary wasteland, dark skies and rotten willow trees along a graying canvas of dead grass. The rain was nearly a torrential downpour. “This isn’t the college.” She said to herself, nearly horrified. Where was she? This world almost looked dead. She turned back to the door, trying to open it again and finding that it was locked. She let out a cry, slamming her fist onto the wood and cursing when it wouldn’t budge.

“Where am I?” She asked herself, turning back towards the land. The closest building was a castle, almost black in its appearance. It looked menacing, and suddenly Elizabeth didn’t feel like testing her luck, looking another way. Wait…why was there a castle in the first place? This definitely wasn’t the college.

She felt like any direction she chose would lead to something bad, but she couldn’t go back inside the church. Elizabeth looked back at the castle, still getting the foreboding feeling and turning a different way, beginning to head for a village. She remembered earlier on when she didn’t want to get her shoes wet from the rain and here she was, walking in a pouring rainstorm and getting her shoes and stockings wet, along with her blouse, skirt and hair.

It was clear to everyone, especially Elizabeth, that she was out of place. For one thing, she was in greens and browns while everyone wore gray scale garments that looked a little more dated than what she was wearing. For another thing, she was the only one with a face in the entire village. She stood out like a beacon among a graying canvas, and those around her began to whisper. Even so, the eyeless stares looked better than the blackened and foreboding castle. She still had no idea where she was, and she was afraid of even asking someone. If they had no face, could they still talk?

Was she asleep?

Before she could even ask someone about where she was, she spotted a troupe of uniformed men marching down the main street of the village. They looked like knights or guards, and on closer inspection she could see spades attached to their uniforms. She saw all the villagers jumping out of the way of the troupe, every single one of them moving off to the sides in abject fear. Elizabeth had a feeling that she too was to do the same, and she hoped that they would pass her by without notice. They must belong to that blackened castle. She stepped aside, close to a man and a woman with their small child. The small child gazed at Elizabeth for quite some time before grinning widely, moving behind her and waiting for the troupe to get closer before shoving the woman out into the middle of the street. Elizabeth cried out, stumbling forward before turning back sharply to glare at the child, “You little shit!” She shouted.

“You there!”

Elizabeth froze, wincing and slowly turning back to see one of the guards approaching her. “He pushed me.” She said hollowly.

The guard, in which which the uniform was made to look like a card face; a two of spades, looked her up and down, sneering at her after a moment. “Come with us.” It wasn’t a request, and Elizabeth could hear the child behind her holding in a laugh. She grimaced, nodding quietly and allowing them to grab her arms. She turned her head to glare scathingly at the child, who only stuck out his tongue and laughed her way. No one spoke up on her defense, too cowed to do anything.

She sighed, allowing the cards to march her towards the castle, her eyes lingering on the monolithic structure and feeling a cold chill go down her spine. She swallowed on instinct. She felt like this dream turned into one big nightmare full of faceless people, she had to be asleep, she had to.

If it was cold outside the castle then it was even colder on the inside. The castle was almost like a dungeon. The floors were cold stone, covered by tattered red carpet. Stone pillars were on either side of the walls, reaching as high to the ceiling while half-melted candles hung from the same pillars. They had passed a coat of arms, holding a battle-ax and Elizabeth swore it moved when she looked at it. There was a stairwell at the end of the corridor they walked through, and that’s when most of the cards parted, leaving only the two at her side. They walked her down the stairwell, into an actual dungeon that was colder and smelled pungent, like death. She shivered from the cold, regretting ever leaving the church and entering the rain as they opened one of the cells and shoved her inside. Elizabeth yelped, stumbling to the back wall and catching herself, turning back to find them leaving.

“I don’t even get a trial?” She cried out, “I didn’t even fucking do anything!” She kicked the bars, anger filling her lungs and providing heat. “Let me out!” If she was going to be killed then she wasn’t going to die quietly.

“Let the King decide her fate.” Said the one guard to the other, and the two of them nodded, shutting the door.

Elizabeth was left alone, screaming into the air, her words falling on deaf ears.

* * *

Elizabeth was brooding, cold, and hungry. No one had come down to give her any food, the only water she had was dripping from the stones into a dirty bucket that she refused to drink out of. She was left here alone and angry, and she was only getting more volatile by the second. If they were leaving her in here to try and make her weaker, they were wrong to assume such a thing.

Whatever light that was seeping in from the smallest of windows had dissipated into complete blackness, and she could only see by the candles on the walls. She could only sit on a cold and hard thick slab of wood, that was making her ass numb, the woman drumming her nails on the surface as she waited.

Her patience was running thin, taut like a violin string that was being pulled from both sides.

She woke up into a desolate landscape and faceless people, what kind of dream was this? What did this dream mean? She tried to think about it, faceless people meant something undefined. Either something in her subconscious, emotions, wishes, or perhaps feelings about an unknown future. But it made no sense, everything in her future was definite. She knew where she was going, she knew where she wanted to be.

Or did she?

In order to know anything more about the dream she had to progress in the dream, though the fact that she was so self-aware in this dream make her wonder if this was a lucid dream or not. Elizabeth got up to try and get herself out of the dungeon, only to find out that she was still locked inside. No, this wasn’t a lucid dream. She couldn’t do whatever she wanted.

This dream was pissing her off.

“You motherfucker! Let me out!” She slammed her hands against the bars, just as the door to the dungeons had opened, two guards carrying torches entering the room. Behind them was a man, a dark-haired man, his brown eyes glittering at the sight of his newest prisoner. He stayed quiet as he watched her glare scathingly at him.

“Don’t you know how to show fealty to your King?” He began.

Oh, dream or not, this _wasn’t_ going to happen.

“You’re not my King.” Elizabeth spat, “You don’t rule over me.”

The King snorted in amusement, stepping forward, “Words like that can cost you your tongue, because I’ve so grown tired of lopping off heads, would you like to know how to live without the ability to talk?”

Elizabeth stepped closer to the bars, showing no fear. If this was where she was going to die, then she wasn’t going to die _weak_. “Fuck you.”

“Oho!” The King grinned, “Oh I like you, I love it when I get a prisoner that has a spirit that I can crush.” He stepped closer to the bars, “It’s a shame too, you’re so pretty. Won’t your mother be so sad to learn that her daughter has been broken by her King?”

“My mother is dead, you waste of space. Petty guilt trips don’t work on me, so try again.”

The man only watched her curiously, raising his hand up to snap his fingers, and one of the guards handed him the torch. He held it close to the bars to get a better look at the woman. The way she looked at him with so much hate, it made her look vexing. “What’s your name?” He asked then.

“Elizabeth. Now be polite and do the same, I want to know your name so I can better curse it.”

The man chuckled, “Very well then, my name is Eric.” He found himself admiring her face more than studying it, catching her eyes, the fire that reflected in her green eyes could nearly burn him, mirroring the fire that her soul manifested from. Finally, a fire to match his own blaze, but will it die out? “I want to break you.” He decided, “I want this woman out of the cells, place her in a room, but don’t allow her to leave.”

Elizabeth grit her teeth, “I won’t make anything easy for you, just know that. Elizabeth Horowitz doesn’t break for anyone.”

“We’ll see about that.” Eric said smoothly, turning away from the cells, “Feed her as well, I don’t want her dead.”

With that he smiled, leaving the dungeon. When the guards approached Elizabeth’s cell her glare didn’t let up.

“Come with us.”

Elizabeth stepped out of the cell, and one of them took her arms, restraining her while the other led the way out. She couldn’t do much, the one thing on her mind was breaking free and running, but she didn’t know how far she would get. No, this man gave her a challenge. He wanted to see her grovel at his feet. He didn’t know her, however.

This had to be some kind of challenge that only her mind could create.

They led her up another stairwell, down the darkened corridors, when they reached a single mahogany door they opened it up and shoved her inside. Elizabeth stumbled in, nearly falling on the bed. The guard holding the torch went further inside to start up a series of candles, giving her a small amount of light before leaving the room and locking her inside.

Elizabeth looked around, noting the wardrobe and the vanity on one side, her eyes trailing to the bed, a queen size four-poster from the looks of it. It was too dim to see what color it was, but she had a feeling that it would be just as dark as the dreary castle. She looked for a window, finding one on the other end of the room. No balcony, no ledge. When she tried to open it she found that it was jammed shut, and she sighed. Though, jumping from a second story window just sounded stupid to begin with.

She frowned, finally deciding to sit on the bed, discovering that it felt comfortable. She slipped off her loafers and laid back, staring at the stone ceiling.

Who was the King supposed to represent in her dream? Her arrogance? No, part of her personality that wanted total control? No, that didn’t sound right either. This dream still didn’t make any sense to her.

What was going to happen now?

* * *

There was light shining into the room, despite the sky being a murky gray. She continued to sleep, her glasses on the nightstand as she was buried deep within the deep red velvet colors. The room was more visible now than before, the four-poster a deep mahogany with blood red curtains. There was an old carpet that took over the floor, and an eerie painting of the King that nearly covered half of the far wall. The most curious part about it were the moving eyes, directly trained on Elizabeth’s sleeping form. Eventually those eyes disappeared, replaced with unmoving eyes. The woman slept on, unaware of the light or the footsteps that were directing themselves to her room.

The doorknob turned, and the King didn’t make sure to keep himself quiet. “Get the fuck up.” He commanded, his eyes directed at the bed. Elizabeth only groaned and turned, her hair pooling around the pillow. Eric did his best not to stare for longer than he had to, taking the thin cane in his hand and smacking it against the wooden post. “I SAID UP.”

Elizabeth winced, her eyes slowly opening, staring up at the canopy as she reached for her glasses to slip them on, finally sitting up. She was still here? Elizabeth assumed she’d be back in the library by now. “Oh, _you’re_ here.” She didn’t sound happy about Eric’s presence, the statement flat as a pancake.

The man’s eye twitched at her reaction, and he snapped his fingers. Instantly, a maid entered, holding a silver tray full of fruits and bread, a bowl of porridge and the proper silverware. The maid stepped around him to place the tray in Elizabeth’s lap, leaving quickly. “I figured you needed to eat, so I advise you to get your fill.”

Elizabeth stared at the selection that was presented to her, her eyes flickering up to him after a moment. “For someone who’s trying to break me, you’re sure being hospitable.”

“Or am I giving you the illusion of kindness?” The King retorted, grinning, “Every move I make is carefully planned, woman. You won’t know if I’m being honest or tricking you into letting your guard down. Now eat.”

Elizabeth looked at the food again, wondering if it was poisoned. No, he wouldn’t kill her just yet. He wanted to have his fun first. She felt her stomach growl and finally reached for a spoon, eating her food in relative silence. This was quite an immersive dream to be having.

Eric only watched as she ate properly. Anyone else would have ravaged their food like a pack of wild dogs, but even if she was starving, she didn’t attack her food. It was a difference he haddecided to keep in mind, waiting until she was done with her porridge to finally speak. “I’ve come here with an offer.” He began. “This is a one-time deal. I will allow you to leave my castle and go wherever you want to go.”

She quirked a brow his way, setting down her spoon, it sounded too good to be true. “You’ll let me leave.” She repeated, not buying any of it.

“Full freedom. All you have to do is call me your King.”

_There it was_. “No.”

Eric looked amused, grinning slightly, “Are you positive? As I said, this is a one-time deal. You can have total freedom out of my kingdom, I won’t even think of going after you. All you have to do is that one little favor.”

Elizabeth glared at him, “Are you deaf? I said no.”

The King chuckled darkly, he had a feeling that she would put her pride over the want for freedom. He looked at the cane in his hand, clicking his tongue. “If you insist, then I’m going to have to try other ways to get you to declare me as your King.” He gripped the handle and slammed it against the post again, making her wince. “Get up.”

The fierceness in Eric’s voice normally brought people to their knees in fear, but Elizabeth wasn’t swayed. She thought about her choices, ignoring him versus doing what he said, and the longer she sat there to think about it the more Eric became annoyed.

“I. Said. Up.” He spaced out his words, punctuating them as hard as possible to get his point across. There was no playing with him. He waited until Elizabeth finally set the tray aside and got out of bed. She walked over to him, staring at him evenly. She was staring death in the face and refusing to flinch, and that in itself quietly impressed him, though he refused to show it. “The fact that you don’t fear me is amusing.” He said then, putting his hand to her chin and tilting it upward, he could still see the burning fire behind the green of emerald.

“Oh, I should be _fearing_ you?” Elizabeth smirked at him, “I didn’t get the memo. Well, I’m so sorry. Ah, I’m so afraid. Look at me shake in fear.” Her voice was dripping in sarcasm.

Eric pulled his hand back and smacked her hard across the face, moving to grip her chin. “I’m not in the mood for backtalk. Maybe if you were punished, you would finally realize your place. I’m the King, and you are nothing.”

The sting of the slap was still prominent on her cheek, but she ignored it in favor of glaring at him. A thought crossed her mind suddenly and she decided to act on it, spitting in his face.

That seemed to make the King snap and he grabbed Elizabeth by her hair, dragging her to the window and shoving her against it, lifting her skirt up before taking his cane and whipping her with it. Elizabeth cried out, her eyes shutting from the sting of the cane, the King alternating from her legs, thighs, to her ass. He wasn’t soft about it, using all his arm strength with each blow. The woman grit her teeth and did her best to endure it, trying to move but his other hand was forcing her against the window, strong and firm.

This pain was too real to be a dream!

“Apologize.” Eric demanded, whipping her again, “Apologize to your King.”

“Fuck you.” She hissed out, “I’d rather die.” She held back another cry as the cane impacted with her ass, the pain from the strikes were enough to make her tear up yet she refused to cry. He continued to strike her until there were burning red marks all over her pale skin.

The frustration and anger finally left him and he stopped, the man gripping her hair again and pulling her forward, forcing her to her knees. “Let me get this straight you fucking bitch, I am the King. ME. You have no power here.” He snarled, “You’re nothing. Just a stain on the carpet, and I won’t be happy until you acknowledge your place.” He shoved her away after that, letting go of her hair so he could wipe the spit off his face. Elizabeth let out a cry and fell back on her ass, wincing from the pain that was brought on by the earlier caning.

This wasn’t a dream, this wasn’t a dream, this wasn’t a dream. This pain was real. This pain was more than real. Elizabeth rolled herself off of her own ass, hissing from the burn she was feeling. This King wasn’t a manifestation of her subconscious, he was a real living person.

But dream or not, she wasn’t going to cower.

“If you think I’ll ever give you that satisfaction then I rather you behead me now.” Elizabeth shouted, glowering at him, “I will never give you what you want.”

The man laughed, “Oh, you expect me to _kill_ you? Why would I do that?” He grinned madly, “That’s just the easy way out, and why would I fucking lop off that pretty little head of yours when I have better uses for it?” He sneered at her, kneeling down and grasping her hair again. “I’m not going to let up until you say that I’m your King.”

Elizabeth hissed from the pain he was inflicting on her, continuing to glare at him, “Then get ready for a long fucking summer you fat fuck.”

The man smacked her a second time and Elizabeth could feel her cheek throbbing, the man storming out of the room, enraged.

“GOD DAMMIT!” His voice echoed down the corridors, and he slammed the door, “Lock that door.” He shouted to his guards, making his way further down the corridor, his hands shaking in the midst of his rage.

When he descended the stairwell he began to calm down some, thinking back to the woman and her defiant glare, the fire in those eyes that he saw the night before. He was right, it did make her beautiful, and he couldn’t deny that he got a thrill over what he did to her before. Eric soon began to wonder what else he could do to her, glancing back up the steps before turning to head to his own room.

He needed a moment to think.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth was in pain. She hadn’t been though this sort of thing in her life. Emotionally neglected, yes, but never physically abused. Just what kind of word did she fall into? This was proving to be worse than her own. She had left her own world to become prisoner of another, and she didn’t even know how she had gotten here…

_“All I want is to go somewhere where my sister doesn’t exist. I want to be important, just for once in my life.”_

The mirror.

What kind of world was this? She wasn’t important, she was being fucking held captive by a psychotic King. True, her sister didn’t exist here, though if the Queen turned out to be Alice then she would end herself. Was there a Queen? She didn’t even know. What world was this, what time was this? Was she in the past? No one had any funny accents so there wasn’t a concise answer as to where she was at the moment. She was lost in a foreign land, her ass and thighs were burning from the sting of the cane, she couldn’t fully sit down or lay on her back. What else was he going to do to her?

Did she really wish herself into this sadistic and cruel world?

If so, what was her subconscious thinking?

* * *

She was left alone for half the day, the woman having finished off the fruits that she was given for breakfast. No one else had come in, and she had managed to take a hot bath, tending to her wounds. He didn’t hit her so hard that he broke flesh, no, it was just painful to sit, almost _too_ painful to sit, leading her to laying in the tub in the other direction. The bathroom was just as dreary, but then the black stone made anything look depressing, though it was draped with enough tapestries of cherubs and nymphs that it could be considered _pretty_.

When she was finished washing herself she had taken the towel and stepped back into the bedroom, stopping at the foot of the bed to see a dress laid out before her, and her own clothes missing. She looked towards the door, and back at the dress, then went about looking for her underwear, only to find that they were gone as well.

“Of course.” She said to herself, glaring hatefully at the dress and taking off the towel so she could pull it on. It was a warmer dress than what she arrived in, a nice velvet for the cold weather, in deep crimson, which seemed to be the theme of the castle. It was slightly tight around her waist but she was still able to breathe.

She still wasn’t able to sit down, resigned to laying on her side. She wondered when King Fatass would return, and what he would bring with him. If it was going to fit the trend, he’d give her something and then punish her for not thanking him, and after a moment she looked at the sleeve of her dress, realizing that this was probably something he’d expect praise for. She rolled her eyes, it was too predictable.

It wasn’t long until she heard footsteps outside the door, and someone moved to unlock it.

“Ah, you’ve gotten the dress.” Came the voice she grew to loathe, and she didn’t move to address him.

“Why are my underwear gone?” She asked, glaring at the wall.

“You would mind to look at your King while you’re speaking to him.” Eric smirked.

“I can’t.” She ground out.

“Oh, why not?” His voice was saccharine, and Elizabeth clenched her teeth.

“It hurts to sit.”

“Oh, well that just sounds unpleasant, but you wouldn’t have gotten that if you weren’t so disrespectful to your King, now would you?”

She could hear him grinning, and she clenched her fist. Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to punch him, so she laid there, refusing to answer.

The King tutted, stepping away and leaving the room. Elizabeth sighed when she heard the door shut, relaxing slightly and rolling over on her stomach. She removed her glasses, burying her head in the down pillow and wondering how she could leave the castle without having to bend to the man’s will. Perhaps she should have taken his initial offer, but then that would have required her to demean herself to him and that was the last thing she wanted to do. Elizabeth wasn’t a weak woman, she was a strong person with strong beliefs and it would take more than false promises or violent pain to break her.

Just when Elizabeth felt like resting she heard the footsteps again, and the door was unlocked, telling her of _his_ entrance. She groaned, “What now?”

“I’m treated so coldly in my own castle.” The King mused, “Over a woman who should be thanking me for my kindness, yet she’s so unmoving.”

“What _kindness_?” She bit back.

Eric smirked in amusement, settling a jar onto the bed and moving her swiftly, the mattress dipping as he sat, placing her over his lap. She cried out as it happened, her eyes widening, “What the fuck are you going to do now?” She shouted.

“Quiet.” Eric flipped her dress enough that her beaten and bruised ass was exposed, taking the jar he had just a moment ago and opening it. Her pale skin had prominent red marks all over it, a sign of a job well done.

Elizabeth was about to move, feeling the cold air hit her legs, “Just what are you—“ She stopped as she felt something cold and cool being massaged into her skin, whatever it was beginning to tingle and tone down the pain. “Wha—“

“I said quiet.” He repeated, rubbing the salve into her skin.

The woman wanted to wrench herself off of him, but he had an iron-like grip on one of her thighs, She couldn’t quite understand it, how he was taking care of her bruises after implementing them, until wondering if this was a trick. Take care of her now, and when she didn’t thank him, make the bruises worse. She stayed quiet, feeling his hands smooth over her skin, the one holding her thigh. She was reminded of the slap to the face, realizing that he had a strong grip, hell, her scalp still hurt from him pulling her by the hair. She idly began to wonder about those same hands on her neck, only to push those thoughts away, nearly disgusted. Why would she even think of going down that road?

Eric made sure to rub in the salve everywhere she could be feeling the pain, his eyes lingering on the red marks until he was grinning to himself, tracing one of them with his fingers. It looked like a work of art, marking such pale and untouched flesh. He began to wonder if she was untouched anywhere else, thinking about the woman he encountered. She was vexing yet angry, but she was pretty enough to find many suitors. His thoughts began to go south, his hand massaging her right cheek. The woman underneath him stayed silent, but if he was just a little bolder he could elicit a response out of her. Before he could even act on that thought, he held himself back. Now wasn’t the time for such things, it would be lovelier if he could break her first, then take pleasure in the crumble. He wondered how much longer it would take until it happened, or if it would happen at all. Either way, she caught his full and undivided attention. There wasn’t a Queen around to keep him entertained, and beheading people was getting too boring. This woman was his new toy, but how long until he grew bored of her as well?

Elizabeth, as much as she wanted him to stop touching her, was starting to feel the pain and burning subside. It was a miracle of whatever he was rubbing into her, but why was he taking his time in doing it? She sighed, setting her chin on her arm, “Can you hurry it up?” She asked boredly.

The King snorted in amusement, “Commanding around a King, you really don’t know your place, do you?”

“I know my place.” Elizabeth grinned, “It’s over your rotting corpse with a battle-ax.” Yes, play it scary, do what you know how to do best. She wondered if he’d become like the others, disgusted in her as a person. She was the type of woman that could inflict fear into the weakest of men…but he wasn’t really all that weak, was he? No, she would have to see how much this King would take until he got sick of her. It’s not like she had anything to lose anymore.

“Amusing.” The man chuckled, recapping the salve and pulling down her dress. He already lamented the absence, but he was patient enough to wait for this woman to finally fold under his pressure. “Are you not going to thank your King for his kindness?”

“You’re not my King, so I don’t owe you squat.” She quipped, her grin remaining.

It was amazing how easy she was able to push his buttons with only a few words. Eric kept his reaction to himself, opting to ignore it. “I’m going to allow you two time periods of rest, after that I’m going to make you kneel down before me.”

“I’d love to see that happen, Eric, I really would, because that would mean the world would be coming to an end and pigs can fly.”

His eye twitched and he repositioned her on the bed, standing up before he could do anything else. “Pigs already fly, first of all, so we’re only halfway there.”

With that he made his way out of her room.

Elizabeth had gone still, running through that one bit of information. If pigs could fly, then where the fuck was she?

* * *

It seemed that time didn’t exist in this world, as Elizabeth kept an eye on the window during the day and within a blink of an eye the light had become dawn, like the time went in reverse. She still didn’t quite understand where she was, what place was this? Faceless people, Kings, castles, flying pigs apparently, the absence of time, the world didn’t make sense. If this was a dream like she first thought, it would have made sense, but as she pinched her own wrist she winced. No, this was real. This entire thing was real.

Though, she didn’t know if this was better or worse than her own world. So far she was a prisoner, but she wasn’t being starved or tortured. Maybe abused, but not tortured. There wasn’t one of those stretchers and she wasn’t being waterboarded, or any of the other medieval torture mechanisms that existed. Though, she didn’t know what will happen when the King returned to her room. What she was put through may be increased tenfold. He was sadistic enough, there was a psychotic spark in his eyes that scared her, but it also gave her a strange emotion that she didn’t want to focus on. She nearly cringed in disgust, why was she thinking about him in such a way? This wasn’t the first time.

She was confusing herself.

It wasn’t like the King was ugly…no, he was very much handsome…if one liked that type of thing. He was also quick to anger and sadistic in his nature. She had a feeling he’s killed people plenty of times without a second thought, and cruelty seemed to be his strong suit. It was eerie how similar they nearly were. Never in Elizabeth’s life did she think she’d meet someone who was almost like her in terms of outward personality. She didn’t know anything else about him, and she was hesitant to even look deeper. She didn’t know how long she’d be here.

Escaping the castle seemed to be a good option, but where would she go? Anywhere, far, far, far away from this castle. Far away from this man, far away and hopefully to find a way back home. But the question was, did she even want to go home?

“This place doesn’t have Alice…” She said to herself, “But I’m being treated like a prisoner.”

Though she wouldn’t be treated like a prisoner if she would just cave in to the King’s demands. All she had to do was proclaim him as her King and he would probably let her go, like the first time he offered. Yet doing something like that, willingly demean herself just so she could have freedom. That wasn’t her. She didn’t like to do what people wanted of her, she didn’t like to bow down to anyone. She had more than her pride.

Was holding onto her pride worth being made a prisoner?

She would rather die holding onto her dignity than live and lose her self-respect.

If this was a metaphorical dream, Eric would be the culmination of everything life was throwing at her, trying to make her buckle under the pressure. She wasn’t about to let anyone get the upper hand over her, be it a King or a God.

As she continued to process her thoughts, the door had opened. She turned, facing a faceless maid. She trembled at the sight of Elizabeth for a moment, a silver tray in her hands full of food. “King Eric wants you to be fed.”

She nodded quietly, watching the maid set the tray onto the vanity, turning to leave.

“Wait.”

The maid stopped, “I can’t linger, it’s not allowed.”

Elizabeth stepped over to her, “Just answer my questions, please.”

The maid hesitated, turning to meet the other’s face. “What questions?”

“I want to know where I am.”

The maid nodded, “You’re clearly not a role holder…perhaps you’re an outsider.” She seemed to be staring at Elizabeth oddly, snapping out of it after a moment. “You’re in the Land of Spades, miss.”

“…that tells me nothing.” The woman scowled, “I mean this world, what world am I in?”

As they spoke, the painting on the wall had moved, its eyes becoming lifelike. Elizabeth nor the maid noticed, but the way the woman raised her voice made her cower.

“W-W-Wonderland, miss.”

Elizabeth paused, “Wonderland.” The gears in her head were turning, and she thought to ask a question, “Is there a Queen of Hearts?”

The maid winced, “The Queen of Hearts, the last I heard of, hasn’t been replaced, such as our Queen.”

“This isn’t the Wonderland I’ve read about.” She said to herself, grasping the maid’s arm and pulling her along. “I want to know more.”

The maid pulled away, “I do apologize but I’m not allowed to speak to you, I’m breaking the rules and I hate to get caught—“

Elizabeth’s grip on the maid’s arm began to get painful and the maid audibly yelped, her knees buckling as the woman’s grip became steel. She began to panic, the atmosphere of the room becoming chilled, almost frozen as she stared up at the prisoner, seeing nothing but anger.

“Listen you.” Elizabeth hissed out. “I’m very far away from my own world and I don’t give a flying **_fuck_** what your King says, you’re going to sit down and tell me everything you know or _I’m going to use your body to break the windows_.”

The maid made a strangled whimper and nodded demurely, so used to the King’s lethal outbursts that Elizabeth’s threatening and ominous demeanor made her quake in fear. Was this why the King was so interested in her? She was just like him!

Elizabeth’s steel grip immediately softened and the woman dragged the maid to the bed, both of them unaware of the curious brown eyes of the painting, having seen something that made this woman even more interesting.

The two sat down, and Elizabeth gave her a faint smile as if she never threatened her with bodily harm, “Now, explain Wonderland.”

The maid shook, “Wonderland—it’s divided into five countries. The country of Hearts, the country of Spades, the country of Diamonds, and the country of Clovers. Where you are in currently is the country of Spades.”

“What’s the fifth country?”

She swallowed, “Neutral territory, the Mad Hatter’s mansion.”

Elizabeth blinked, so this was the book…but there was so much that was different. “When you said there wasn’t a Queen of Hearts, what do you mean?”

She looked away nervously, “The Queen of Hearts died in a war…they warred with our country, and both Queens were lost. We’re supposed to have a new Queen but one hasn’t been chosen, which is odd.”

“Explain.”

“In this world, there are two sects of people, role holders, and those without. I’m one without, for example. We have nothing special about us, we’re disposable. Role holders on the other hand, they’re special. They are chosen to fulfill the role that they were given. M-My King is one of them.”

The eyes left the painting, replaced by unmoving ones.

“You called me an outsider.” Elizabeth was mentally taking this down, “What do you mean?”

“One that doesn’t come from this world…they’re r-rare. But outsiders…there’s something about outsiders that are special…l-like—you’re—“

The door opened then, and the maid froze up entirely, covering her mouth.

“What have I told you?” The King’s attention was on the maid, in his hands was a whip. Elizabeth ignored the weapon in favor of glowering at the King.

“I’m sorry she—“

“I don’t care!” He shouted, “Whatever excuse you have can save it for the executioner.” He snapped his fingers, “I want her OUT.”

Two guards hurried inside, one of them dragging out the maid by her arms.

Elizabeth shot to her feet, “She was answering my questions!” She shouted.

The man shut the door behind him, “Since when do you assume that my servants work for you?” He stepped over to her, his height imposing. Elizabeth didn’t back down, her eyes narrowed.

“I don’t care who they work for, she had answers and I wanted them.” She folded her arms, “I have a right—“

“Prisoners don’t have rights.” The man scoffed, “You love to think you’re more than what your standing is.”

She quirked a brow, “What pray tell is my standing?”

The man reached over and took her chin in his hand, directing it up to his face, “Lower than dirt.”

The desire to spit in the man’s face was rising, and she wasn’t afraid to do it a second time. Her eyes glanced down to the whip in his other hand. She wasn’t too stupid to connect the dots. “Then my standing is higher than yours.” She smirked defiantly.

Eric felt amused, letting go of her chin. “What is my standing? I’m honestly curious, tell me.”

She stepped even closer to him, placing one hand on his chest. From that angle she nearly looked alluring, the playful smile that she was giving him was making his fingers twitch.

“The scum beneath my shoes.” She said in the softest and sweetest voice she could give him.

He should be angry, he honestly should be angrier than he was now, but the fact that this woman possessed enough balls on her to insult a King straight to his face was mildly impressive. Coupled with what he had seen just a moment ago, this woman was providing him with adequate entertainment.

As soon as she said that the light in the room had vanished, the dusk becoming night, and they were bathed in the light of the candles. In the firelight Elizabeth could see him grinning, the shadows making it more sinister than anything.

“Oh, well would you look at that? It seems that two time periods have passed.” He sounded eager, “I’ve allowed you enough rest, I believe this means your time is up.”

She stepped away from him, “If you still think I’m going to proclaim you as my King, you’re dead wrong.”

“Thought you’d say that.” Eric put his fingers to his mouth and whistled, the door opening and two guards stepping in. “Hold her.”

When they advanced Elizabeth jumped back, but there wasn’t any room for a battle, not that she knew how to fight to begin with. She wasn’t like her sister. She fought back as hard as she could, but eventually they had her by both of her arms, holding her still. She grit her teeth, glaring at Eric with hatred. “What are you going to do now?” She hissed out.

“Didn’t I tell you the first time? I’m going to break you.” He twirled his finger to the guards, “Turn her.”

They did, turning until Elizabeth’s back was to him. She felt the man’s hands on her dress, ripping the back of it open enough that her back was exposed. Her eyes went wide then, remembering the whip. “Wait-wait I didn’t even do anything to—“

“Do you really think that I’m going to allow a prisoner to speak to me the way that you do?” Eric unraveled the whip, stepping back, “That would put such a bad image on me if I allowed you to insult me without any sort of backlash.” He grinned wickedly, “I think ten strikes for your insolent mouth might make you think twice about your standing.”

Elizabeth’s anxiety heightened and she shut her eyes, bracing for the impact. When the whip made contact with her back she cried out, her legs giving out instantly. The guards had an iron grip, holding her up.

“Count them.” He commanded.

“Fuck you!” She said through her teeth, “Fuck you and everything you stand for!” When it connected with her back she felt her flesh burning, and she cried out again, tears pricking the corners of her eyes, but never falling.

“So I guess I’m just going to do this for the entire time period until you count them, I suppose if you _really_ want to—“

“ONE.” She snarled out, her hands becoming fists, “ONE, are you HAPPY?”

“Pleased.” Another crack.

Elizabeth sucked in air, “Two.”

Knowing that she had to do this at least eight more times made her wonder if this hell would ever end. With each crack of the whip another trail of fire lit her back, burning her flesh and making her scream. The tears threatened to streak down her face, but she fought against it, counting three, four, five, six times, her back was on fire. Her legs have long since stopped supporting her, and she was only hanging on by the grace of her ire. Seven, eight, nine, she wondered if she was bleeding, and she had a good feeling that she might be. The pain was something she never had in her life, and it made her feel more alive than anything. How far down did she have to go to fight for her own pride? How much was she willing to do to maintain that obstinate tenacity? By the time she counted to ten the guards had released her and she collapsed to her knees, curling herself forward and folding her arms close to herself. This pain made the previous whacks with the cane feel like nothing. How much worse could this get?

Eric rolled his whip back up again, stepping over to her. He knelt down next to her, “Still not going to fold?”

She sat up further, turning her head to glare at him, the fire of the candles providing the flame in her emerald eyes. “Fuck you.” She hissed out.

The man regarded her quietly, keeping his eyes on her. Normally people would cave earlier on but this woman wasn’t even anywhere near crumbling. He wouldn’t say it out loud to her face, but she was continuing to impress him. Were all outsiders like this or was she an anomaly? No female in this country much less this world would dare stay as headstrong as she was being currently.

She was waiting for him to leave, the last thing Elizabeth wanted to do was appear weakened in front of this man. She kept her hands close to her chest, hearing the man click his tongue before standing up and leaving quietly. She visibly relaxed, leaning her head against the foot of the bed. Maybe accepting that initial offer to leave the castle would have been better.

Just as she thought she was alone again, the door opened and _He_ stepped back in. Elizabeth sighed, wondering what else he could want to do to her? Nothing could top this, or was he going to rub her pain in her face, throw in some mental torture along with the physical.

She didn’t expect anything, so she never expected the man to kneel behind her, that jar of salve in his hand. When he opened it the faint smell of menthol went to her nose, and before she could smell it she felt it on her back, wincing as he touched her marks. Upon contact the burning sensation was replaced with a cooling one as he rubbed the salve into her skin. Out of everything, this was the thing that was confusing her the most. Every time he tortured her he would come back and take care of her. She didn’t understand, was this a ploy to let her guard down or was this some kind of emotional manipulation on his part?

She was afraid to ask, why are you doing this? Why are you being so kind? He said nothing, continuing what he was doing while the silence stretched between them. She closed her eyes after a while, focusing on his touch. The same strong hands, the ones that held her still without problem and the ones that were touching her without malice, were also the hands that held the tools in which she was tormented with. Again, she began to imagine those hands elsewhere, and again she felt disgusted with herself, wondering why she was having those thoughts.

Stockholm Syndrome was a thing, she had to remember that. That had to be it, there was no way she’d be _honestly_ attracted to him.

Yet those thoughts continued and Elizabeth hated them, it was one of her weaknesses, one of her many hidden weaknesses that she refused to let anyone know about. The last thing she wanted was for those weaknesses to be brought into the light. Hidden secrets, wants, _desires_ , none of that could reach his ears.

Eric made sure to take care of every inch of her exposed back, enjoying the fact that such pristine skin was being marked by his hand. They were little reminders, red reminders that he had touched her. Though it didn’t seem like it was enough, none of it was enough. He wanted a show of possession, some type of symbol of ownership. Something that would remind her and everyone else who she belonged to. Though, that would have to be a symbol of something else. He was doing his best to break her and her resolve have yet to cave. She was stronger than she looked, and he wondered just who was she in her own world. Was she the daughter of a noble? She didn’t even come off as a commoner, she didn’t have the same air as a commoner. A woman who spoke to the King in such a way was anything but a commoner. His mind wandered, and he began to wonder again if she had suitors back in her world. Such a pretty and fiery woman shouldn’t have been lonesome…

Just the thought of her with anyone else disgusted him. She was here now, anyway, Eric had no plans in allowing her to leave. Outsiders were special, but this one was more than that.

No one would notice if he just kept her for himself.

When the touches became less and less Elizabeth let out a sigh, straightening up. The fact that he was still here meant something. Was he expecting a thank-you? Of course she wasn’t going to give it to him. She waited, only to go still, feeling his hands curl around her waist before a kiss was pressed to the back of her neck. Her heart was pounding as her thoughts began to spin in a whirlwind frenzy, remaining frozen stiff until the touch had receded. After that Eric got to his feet and made his way out the door, leaving her alone.

Elizabeth’s confusion was heightening, but for now she couldn’t bring herself to think about it any more than she wanted to.

When she finally stood up her legs were shaky, the woman finally remembering the tray of food that was set on the vanity. Soup and bread.

The soup was cold.

* * *

When she read the book Alice in Wonderland, it depicted a curious girl following a white rabbit down a hole, into a strange land that was upside-down in every way. The biggest thing about the book was that there was a Queen of Hearts. Perhaps a Red Queen and a White Queen, if you read the next book, but there were no mentions of other card suits.

Yet this world was split up into fifths.

Country of Hearts, Clovers, Spades, Diamonds. Which meant there were a King and Queen for each set, villages, knights, the whole gambit. The Mad Hatter’s domain was the neutral ground… what did neutral ground mean? Did all the countries war with each other? She hadn’t any answers.

Most of all, there wasn’t any Queen of Hearts, or a Queen of Spades, both countries had no Queen, and neither have found a replacement… what was the war about? How did they die? How did it start? She wanted to know.

Then there were the two types of people. Role holders, and people without roles…how did that work? Was one chosen to be a role holder? This meant Eric was a role holder. His role was a King… what happened if you were chosen? …what happened if you didn’t want your role? She was an outsider, was that her role?

There were too many questions piling up for her to ask them all, and after the previous maid was beheaded for giving Elizabeth information, the other maids refused to go near her… she wondered if word got out about her temper…

Elizabeth sighed, her arms curled around the pillow as she lay in the bed. It had been two time periods, as they called it, since the whipping. The salve he used on her seemed to be magic, because it hardly hurt anymore. She was given a new dress, the same blood red, and Eric had yet to stick his fat head into the room to bother her. How strange that she was expecting him to be here and becoming upset that he wasn’t. She still refused to think about what had happened the other night, she refused to touch that subject at all. Elizabeth knew that if she began to think about it then she would only confuse herself more, or spend endless hours trying to rationalize an explanation.

She looked at the window, the dusk had become dawn quickly, and she idly wondered how long it had been since she had arrived here. There was no way to check the time, there were no clocks, and there was a lack of consistency when it came to the time of day. Mornings, afternoons, evenings, and nights came on randomly like a game of Russian roulette and the sense of time was lost. For all she knew it could have been a week since she arrived, or perhaps only three days. Her watch was gone, having been stolen away with the rest of her original clothing.

She began to wonder how many classes she was missing, or if they had declared _her_ missing…would anyone even care that she disappeared? She had a feeling no one would bat an eyelash. She wasn’t well-liked, people talked about her when they thought she wasn’t listening, they constantly compared her to her sister and favored _Her_. She didn’t understand why the King hadn’t killed her yet. She’s been her usual self to him, it was a wonder why he still paid any lick of attention to her. People usually gave up around the first time and begun to hate her, and yet he kept her alive. She didn’t understand the King’s intentions, or his motive.

No, his motive was to break her.

Elizabeth Horowitz wasn’t someone who broke easily, not when others were watching. She broke in the privacy of her own home, away from prying eyes. No one in their life put so much effort into her just to see her kneel down to them. But then, she had never met someone like Eric, someone with just as much fire and tenacity that she possessed, more than enough arrogance and cruelty and a strange and confusing soft side that she still didn’t understand.

She still wondered if that softness was an act to lull her into a false sense of security before he did something even worse, she was still waiting for that side to drop away like a mask.

The the longer she thought the more time seemed to stretch on, and soon it was daylight. She wondered what would happen during this time period, however long it would be. She wondered when she began to look forward to seeing Eric again, and chalked it up to Stockholm syndrome. That was the only logical explanation, and she had to keep telling herself that.

As if her mind was being read, she could hear footsteps approaching the door. Though, as it opened, Elizabeth sensed something different. The air was off. As Eric stepped through the door she noticed no weapons in his hands. No whip, no cane, nothing. She quirked a brow curiously, he couldn’t be here just to _talk_ , could he?

Eric had come in with something different on his mind. It had been on his mind for the last two time periods and all he had been doing was eagerly awaiting the change. He couldn’t get her out of his head, no matter what he did, there wasn’t any other alternative.

“What, no stick, bat, nothing to smack me around with?” Elizabeth questioned, moving to sit. “Don’t tell me you’ve come here for a chat.” She let out a small laugh. “I’m not going to be your psychiatrist.”

He wondered if she was trying to provoke him or this was the woman being her usual self. He didn’t say anything, not yet.

Elizabeth was growing fidgety. Was this a new torture tactic, the silent treatment? “If you don’t have anything productive to say then leave.”

Eric finally smirked, amused. “It’s funny that a prisoner is ordering me around in my own home.”

“It’s funny that a King can’t curb a prisoner’s tongue and continues to let her berate him.” She quipped in return, “Unless you’re secretly a masochist.”

He snorted, “I would have thought that _you’re_ the masochist.”

Elizabeth faltered slightly, regaining her composure just as fast. “Why do you say that?”

He noticed how she lost her cool for that one split second, having a feeling that he hit the nail on the head. He only grinned, walking over to her. “Oh, the way you freely provoke your captor. Every single time he’s in the room you let your pretty mouth fly off the handle, knowing all too well that you’re going to get punished for your disobedience, yet you continue to cross that line. It’s like you _want_ to be punished.”

She did her best to keep herself calm, glaring at him, “Oh? Well you’re the one who continues to take it, you know well that you have the power to shut me up but you never do anything of the sort, you just hand out weak punishments knowing _full well_ that I’m only going to start up again.”

He chuckled, “Why would I shut you up permanently when I enjoy your presence too much?”

Okay, that made Elizabeth lose herself, “Wait what?”

The man’s grin never wavered, “You entertain me, never have I met such a woman in my life that enjoys pushing my buttons and never crumbles when I try to make you fall. Why would I get rid of you? You’re like a fun little toy…no, actually, you’re more like a pet.”

At the word pet Elizabeth felt her anger flare up, and she stood, standing a head smaller than him but doing her best to look imposing. “I am not your pet.” She hissed out.

“Why not? You’re the perfect kind of bitch.”

Elizabeth didn’t know what came over her, she smacked him across the face as hard as she could, glaring at him scathingly until the realization of what had happened passed through her senses. Eric didn’t seem at all phased, looking as if he was waiting for the exact moment she would fuck up. He planned this! She realized in her own horror, her hand lowering quickly as she tried to think of what he was planning to do to her. He had no weapon.

“Quite an arm on you.” The King said honestly, reaching up to rub his cheek, “How bold of you to slap a King.”

“You think I’d just allow someone to equate me to a dog and get away with it?” Her voice was shaking, “I don’t care who you are!”

Eric knew he had her, “Assaulting a King is a worse offense than verbally berating him, I believe that you need to be punished for it.”

A cold chill went down Elizabeth’s spine, and she felt ill. He was looking for a reason to punish her, and she played right into his game.

Eric looked smug, sitting himself down on the edge of the bed, “Over my lap.” He said then. Elizabeth could only stare, confused as to what he wanted before Eric grabbed her arm and pulled her until she was laying on his lap. She tried to stand again but his firm hand was holding her still. Immediately she felt the cold air hit her ass once the dress was pulled up, her eyes widening when she realized what he was going to do.

“You’re going to _spank me_?” Her voice went high an octave and she felt her anxiety peak. This by far had to be the worst punishment, fuck the cane and the whip, this provided more embarrassment than the cane and the whip. She was over his knee like a child who had done something wrong.

“You’re very quick.” Eric placed his hand on her ass, pulling back to smack her, hard. Elizabeth cried out, gripping the man’s pants as she winced. He repeated the action, hearing her reaction. He rather enjoyed it, slapping her ass a third time.

The smacks were timed and slow, Elizabeth couldn’t count them, but each strike was firm, leaving a sting and what she thought would be a red print of his hand. Again, it was those firm, strong hands that caught her attention, and her mind began to wander. After the fourth or fifth slap she was growing embarrassed for a new reason, her face turning red in the realization that she was getting turned on by this, by what he was doing. She felt disgusted with herself, why was this affecting her?

Eric continued to spank her, taking his time. His firm slaps were making her ass look deliciously red, and if he listened closely, he could hear differences in her breathing. She was mostly gasping now, making smaller whimpers that she was desperately trying to hide. It was impossible to hide anything when he was focusing on her reactions, “Don’t tell me you’re…enjoying this?” He looked amused.

Elizabeth was still red, “N-no I’m not.”

“Is that so?” He spanked her harder, and out came a gasping cry that sounded so sultry. The fact that she was enjoying this was a pleasing turn of events, it meant that he wouldn’t feel guilty about doing what he was intending on doing. “It sounds like you’re turned on.”

“T-that’s absurd!” She cried out when he slapped her ass again, sighing at the feel of his hand. It was then when she felt him touch her elsewhere that she nearly choked on air, whimpering at the feel of his fingers tracing her entrance. “N-o—“

“You’re pretty wet for someone who isn’t turned on.” Eric grinned slowly, slipping his fingers in and exploring further. Elizabeth was struggling to speak, only able to make pleased sounds. She gripped his pants tighter and shuddered as he slowly pumped his fingers into her, losing her train of thought. Wasn’t she supposed to be fighting him?

“You really like this.” He said quietly, and Elizabeth could only shake her head, weakly trying to deny that she was when her entire body was giving her away. Eric only chuckled, “Who knew the key to breaking you wasn’t through pain, but pleasure.” He curled his fingers inside of her, “How about I make you another deal, hm? You’ll become my pretty little plaything. I’ve been so lonely lately, and you’re so perfect. I will tend to your every need, anything you want I will give you — all you have to do is call me your King.”

The words had her conflicted. She knew she hated him, but his touch was like fire to her skin and she wanted so much to be burned from the inside out. He was already so close to giving her what she wanted, feeling the tension of her release building inside of her, oh why did she have to be so sexually repressed? Elizabeth took a shaky breath, “F—uck you.” She hissed out, her pride winning over her own lust.

“Thought you’d say that.” Eric removed his fingers, and Elizabeth let out a whine. She was so close to her own release, and he had pulled away just in time. He laughed, “Oh? You want to cum? You know what you need to do for that.”

The never-ending feeling of her tension being pulled was trying to sway her decision, but all she could think about were those hands, his face, and the fact that she should be cursing the ground he stood on. Was it so bad to submit, asked a tiny voice in the back of her head. She heard the resounding yes from the unyielding voice in the forefront of her mind. She had to stay strong, she couldn’t cave!

But the absence of his fingers made her feel so empty, and she hated that. She hated that she was allowing him to bend her will by tapping into her hidden desires. He already discovered one of her weaknesses, what was to say that he wouldn’t discover another and completely ruin her just for the sake of his own amusement?

Part of her wanted this, the part of her that was neglected, the part of her that craved touch and affection wanted this more than anything. He wanted her as his pet, he would pamper and please her, all she had to do was cave into his demand. The other part was her pride, the part of her that loathed to bend to anyone’s will, the part that was holding on to the last few shreds of her dignity. There wasn’t any dignity anymore, she thought, it was all torn away when he discovered her biggest weakness.

Was her pride worth being locked up in a single room as a prisoner to a madman?

“I’ll ask you one last time,” Eric’s voice was low, almost silky, and she could feel his strong hand on her ass, caressing the flesh lovingly, “Will you—or will you not—make your life a little easier? You’ll be so pampered, being my pet.”

Elizabeth wanted to shout out no but she stopped herself. No, she needed to do this, lest she’d be locked in here until she died. “P—please.” She breathed.

There was a moment of silence after that, as if the man hadn’t expected her to give in so easily. Elizabeth felt the hand leaving her ass and she wondered if this was a trick—until those fingers slid back into her, his thumb finding her clit.

“You’d do best to be vocal, pet.” Eric commanded, resuming his ministrations. Elizabeth only nodded in response, starting to unravel as she felt the tension being recoiled once more. She gasped out and whimpered, “—please—please—“ She whispered.

“You know what to call me.” He said silkily, petting her with his free hand.

Elizabeth whined, her hips shuddering as he continued to bring her over the edge, and she felt it snap, her eyes widening, “My King!” Her climax washed over her and she felt herself transcend into a state of bliss, her body quaking as she felt her pride shatter with only two words.

Eric drank it in, feeling her climax on his fingers and bringing them up to his lips to taste her. Hesmiled darkly, reaching over to pet her head. Out of his history in breaking those less than him, this one was the most pleasing, because out of everyone, this one he wanted to keep to himself. “Your new life begins here, my pet.” He pulled her up so that she was sitting in his lap, and Elizabeth only stared at him, unable to say a word. He only grinned at her, his hand finding her neck so he could guide her into a strong and passionate kiss. Elizabeth felt her breath being stolen away and all she could do was allow him to lead before he finally moved away, leaving her flushed and catching her breath.

“You belong to me now.” He said low enough for her to hear.

Elizabeth didn’t answer, only knowing that from this point on she was no longer a prisoner. Perhaps by shattering her pride she could regain some semblance of freedom.

“Now let’s see how obedient you can be.” He gripped her hair gently, urging her to lower herself to her knees. “You had your turn, now it’s mine.”

Elizabeth had a feeling of what he wanted her to do, she wasn’t stupid. She gave some resistance but his grip on her hair became tighter and eventually she was kneeling in front of him, her eyes level with what he was about to present to her. She held back her emotions well but on the inside she was cringing. Was she really going to shame herself like this? Did she really have a choice in the matter? Freedom wasn’t free, and from what it looked like, it was going to cost her more than her pride.

Eric liked the look of her kneeling in front of him, undoing his pants and exposing himself to her. He was already hard, his girth prominent and waiting for service. Elizabeth couldn’t tear her eyes away from it, looking up at him again and back down to his cock. A flurry of uneasy feelings quelled in her gut.

“I’m waiting.” He said then, and Elizabeth winced, hesitantly reaching up to grasp it. She had to remember how it was done, reflecting on those few private moments when she looked this up online. Her hand moved, stroking his length and hearing him groan, which affected her differently than she thought it would. She kept her pace steady, looking up at him to gauge his reactions. When their eyes met Elizabeth could see the lust, the single look in his eyes sending a tingling sensation down her spine. “Use your mouth.” It wasn’t a suggestion, and Elizabeth swallowed the anxiety, looking back down at the girth in her hand. She hesitated for the longest time before finally pushing herself forward, using her tongue first, licking along the flesh. When he groaned again she felt encouraged, continuing what she was doing. It was clear to the both of them that she was inexperienced, and something about that, the thought of perhaps his pet hadn’t done this before, sent a thrilling jolt of desire down into his groin. The King sighed, “Your full mouth.” He directed, soon feeling her taking him into her mouth.

Elizabeth had to remember how it was supposed to go, suck it like it was candy, that’s what Alice told her. Alice, the sister that had more experience than Elizabeth, who was probably having _fun with her fiancee_ while Elizabeth was trapped in a strange world sucking on the King’s cock. She pushed aside that growing irritation, distracting herself with what she was doing. From the sounds he was making, she was doing well.

“Don’t forget the balls.” His voice directed her again, and Elizabeth faltered, removing him from her mouth and staring at… she tried not to think about it, moving forward to take them into her mouth, laving them with her tongue and hearing the moans of praise. It wasn’t long until she felt his strong hand on her head, his fingers gripping her hair to lead her back to his cock. “You’re such a good girl.” He praised, “Such a good little whore.”

Elizabeth faltered again, starting to move away to speak but his hand lead her back, her mouth becoming full with his shaft. She swallowed, glad that she could still breathe when he was halfway down her throat. He seemed to enjoy that all the more, and she felt him shudder, “Keep going.” He told her, and Elizabeth complied, taking him as deep as she could go. She was doing her best to ignore the fact that she was beginning to enjoy this, being able to elicit such sounds and praises from him just by doing this one act, that it was starting to turn her on like his touch had. She knew that if she didn’t ignore it, then she would feel the resounding shame afterwards and the thought that perhaps she _was_ a whore.

She could feel him shudder again and he suddenly grunted, his hand gripping her hair tight to keep her still as he started to cum inside of her mouth. She felt it, his hot seed shooting onto her tongue and she was forced to swallow all of what he gave her. When he released her she finally pulled back, catching her breath and looking up at him. He looked…frazzled, his eyes locked in staggered admiration, and Elizabeth felt a strange satisfaction in knowing that one act could unravel the King so much, and it was _her_ that had done it.

“W—was that your first time?” His voice was unstable, staring at the woman kneeling before him. When Elizabeth only blushed and looked away he had gotten his answer, and he put himself away, “You can stand now.”

Elizabeth got to her feet, but as soon as she straightened herself the King pulled her closer, back onto his lap. “Tell me honestly,” His voice was lower now, smooth as velvet, “Are you untouched?”

The woman took a moment to process that question, and she became red, directing her eyes anywhere but his own. “It’s not like I—“ That wasn’t it. “I didn’t—“ No. “I never—“ Every thought process seemed to die off and Elizabeth was feeling embarrassed just standing there, still averting her gaze until Eric’s hand redirected her chin to meet his eyes.

To think that this beautiful woman had never been touched, the thought alone made desire wash over him. He rather liked knowing that he’d be the first man to deflower her, and it further excited him that he would be the only man that would get to touch her. This woman who had appeared in his kingdom from another world, it was almost like they were _supposed to_ cross paths.

Before Elizabeth could speak again Eric closed the distance between them and kissed her hard, the ferocity of the kiss alone wiping any and all thought from her mind. She found herself melting into the kiss, feeling her body grow hot as he touched her, bringing her closer to his body. Elizabeth was rendered helpless, weak in the other’s strong arms as the man continued to steal her breath away. When it ended it felt like a loss, the woman realizing that she had closed her eyes during the entire thing. When she opened them again he was staring directly at her, giving her a smile. It was the first time she had seen him smile.

“Good pets get rewarded.” He said to her, and Elizabeth felt all words leave her.

* * *

The King’s personal chambers was larger than the room she was in before, about the size of two rooms put together. The bed looked larger than a king-size, lush blood red blankets that matched the curtains. There were windows everywhere, one of them wider and leading out to a balcony. There were paintings where there wasn’t windows, depicting bloody battles. The furniture was made from ebony; wardrobes, desks, the settee, a large cabinet that she dared not look inside, and hanging from the center of the ceiling was a silver chandelier. The room looked more expensive than her father’s house.

The maid led her inside, closing the door as she left. Elizabeth went to the balcony at once, looking over the edge and seeing that she was at least three stories up. How many bedsheets would it take to climb down from there, she wondered. Her head turned upward, looking among the land. Everything looked dead, grayscale just like the villagers she had seen. According to that maid she was in the Land of Spades. She wondered what else was different than the book she read all those years ago.

Though, the irony didn’t escape her, the fact that she fell into Wonderland, and not _Alice_. She snorted in dry amusement, unaware of the King that had entered and was now approaching her. Her breath hitched when she felt his firm hands on her waist, the man leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“You’re not planning anything, are you?” His voice made her shiver, and she swallowed the anxiety that threatened to rise.

“Of course not.” She made sure to even out her voice as much as she could, turning so that she was facing him, her hands finding his chest.

He smirked down at her, and Elizabeth wondered just when she started to find him attractive. “Because you should know there’s a dire punishment if you step outside these walls without my supervision.” He said to her, one hand raising to take her chin. “Is that clear?”

Elizabeth nodded quietly, and Eric pulled her away from the balcony. She could feel her freedom lingering by a thread, unable to look back. He walked her over to the bed, sitting on the edge and bringing her into his lap. “There’s a few rules,” He told her, “First off, you’re to address me as ‘My King’, and depending on how good you are, your sleeping arrangements vary. If you’re good, you sleep in my bed. If you’re bad,” he directed her head over to a cage in the corner, big enough for a human or a large dog. “You’re going in there, among the various other punishments you’re going to get.”

The woman nodded quietly, and Eric let go of her chin. “You’ll come to find out that I’m not as awful as popular opinion demands, as long as you do as I say.” He stood up then, causing Elizabeth to do the same, the man leading her to the large cabinet. She had a morbid curiosity to know what was inside of it, but she also didn’t think she wanted to know.

The King opened one side, and Elizabeth was re-introduced to the cane that was now hanging from the door, along with that whip and what looked like to a paddle. Her blood ran cold, looking further in and finding other things that looked like torture devices. She looked at him with wide eyes, just who _was_ this man?

When he reached inside of it his hands went to a collar that was on a velvet pillow, and Elizabeth saw it before it happened, him putting the collar on her, like she was his _dog_. She stepped away when he brought it out, holding her hands up defensively. “I’m not going to wear—“

“So I guess we’re starting this off with resistance.” Eric said over her words, holding the collar to her, “This is part of the rules, now, are we going to follow the rules or are we going to have difficulty?”

Elizabeth grit her teeth, glaring at him slightly and looking at the strap of leather and metal. This was more humiliating than she assumed it would be, because when she left the room it meant people were going to _see_ that collar and _know_ what she was. This was a symbol of her compliance.

She lowered her hands, “Fine,” The woman stood still, and Eric looked pleased at her eventual obedience, stepping closer to her to put the collar around her neck. Elizabeth felt the leather around her neck, how it was wasn’t uncomfortable but still tight. When it was fully secure Eric stepped back to admire the work, how it looked perfect around her, though she looked perfect in general. He grinned slowly, reaching up to comb his fingers through her hair. Elizabeth felt like the dog that she was, knowing that he was petting her making the woman feel slightly ill.

“Now there’s some other rules you need to know. Aside from not leaving the castle without my supervision, you’re not to distract my servants or guards. Leave them alone, and I’ve instructed them to do the same to you. The last thing I want is a repeat of _last time_ ,” He accentuated the point, and Elizabeth remembered how she threatened to throw a maid out of the window. “When I call for you I expect to see you at my side immediately, I don’t care what you’re doing, it can wait until after you’ve tended to me.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, something Eric noticed.

“That’s one more thing, working on your behavior.” He took her chin in his hand again. “Whatever you think you can get way with before isn’t going to fly here. The roles are clear, you’re _my_ pet and I’m _your_ master. I expect the amount of respect I get from my servants.”

“You’re asking a little too much.” Elizabeth finally spoke, “Do you honestly think that I’m going to—“

“I have ways of training a mouthy bitch.” He tightened his hold on her chin, “But on the other hand, the fire in your spirit isn’t something I want to extinguish…” He seemed to trail off there, glancing away for a moment, “Alright, let’s try this; you are allowed to say whatever the fuck you want, only when we’re alone. Other than that, I expect you to be obedient and speak when you’re spoken to.”

A snort escaped her, “Oh, you’re still asking a little too much.”

“You never learned what a compromise is, have you?” He let go of her chin, stepping away, “You’re going to be difficult, I can just feel it.”

“I very well know what a compromise is, you idiot.” When he turned to look at her she smiled innocently, “We’re alone, you said I can say whatever the fuck I want, remember?”

She was right, and for a moment he felt like changing that rule, but this was the thing that he was attracted to in the first place, her lack of fear in his person. The fact that she was stronger than he perceived her to be. “Don’t get too cocky, I’m still the one in charge.” He reminded her. Eric wondered if she was actually going to be docile when they weren’t alone, and part of him doubted every second of that. It didn’t seem to bother him like it should, because the punishments were just as fun as the rewards.

“Last rule, don’t touch what is mine.”

Elizabeth folded her arms, “What if I wanted to read a book?”

The fact that she could read made her standing in his eyes a little higher, that she was intelligent. Not even the previous Queen preferred to read, and that annoyed the shit out of him. “Books are okay.” He told her, hiding a smile. “I don’t want a stupid pet.”

The comment made her flush a little, not knowing if she should be angry or not. She let his words slide by, looking away from him, “What am I to do when I’m not…” She had trouble saying it. “… _tending_ … to you.”

“That’s entirely your decision.” Eric told her.

It seemed like she wasn’t able to do much of anything, so it didn’t really matter if she was a prisoner or a pet, did it? But he said she wasn’t allowed outside _alone_ , there was the key word. She sighed, sitting down on the bed and letting herself fall back. Her fingers twitched, and she thought of her violin.

If there was anything about her world that she missed the most, it was her violin.

That was about it.

As she lay there, the sky turned dark, and it was night again. Eric took that as a sign. “I believe it’s time to go to bed.” He said aloud, and Elizabeth went still, wondering if this was the moment that he was going to…

That’s what being a pet entailed, right? Having to—

She sat up, her hands fidgeting. She had no idea what she was to do. What was she supposed to do? She could see him in the candlelight, already shedding himself of his uniform. He looked over to her, seeing her still sitting there. “Are you going to ready yourself?”

Elizabeth faltered, “Ready myself with what?” She was glad it was dark, because her face went a few shades of red. She felt nervous, unable to figure out what to do.

Eric wasn’t stupid, catching on quickly. He let out an amused laugh and headed over to the second wardrobe, taking out something that felt like silk to the touch. He tossed it over to her, and she caught it immediately, “Wear that.”

Elizabeth looked at it closely, realizing that it was a nightgown. She blinked, looking up at him before undressing herself. She wondered why she needed to wear clothes if he was just going to remove them again, but said nothing about it.

The fact that she was so confused made this amusing to him, and he opted not to tell her what he was actually planning to do. He tossed his clothes to the side, making his way to one side of the large bed and getting under the covers. Elizabeth seemed to rush then, yanking the nightgown over her head. He only turned in the bed to watch, still amused. “Geeze you’re slow.”

“Shut the fuck up this is my first time.” She replied hotly, still red in the face. She finally slipped under the covers, turning to face him. If she could see his face she would notice his smirk.

“First time sleeping?” He asked innocently, and Elizabeth hesitated. Sleeping?

“We’re…not going…” She trailed off, perplexed. She assumed he wanted to do the _other thing_.

Eric didn’t need the light to see the expression she had on her face, the look of pure confusion. He laughed again, “I like to take my time, but thank you for the amusing act of idiocy on your part.”

Her eyes seemed to flare up and she felt her anger overtaking her, and Elizabeth grabbed her pillow to slam it on his face, making him yelp.

“AY!”

“That’s what you get for leading me on you fat fuck!” She cried out. Eric turned, managing to grab the pillow out of her hands and toss it aside, going for her wrists to pin her to the bed.

“You better be glad we’re in private.” He hissed low in her ear, “Also, I’m not fat, I’m big-boned, you haughty little bitch.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, “Quit calling me a bitch and I won’t call you an obese piece of shit.”

Something about this moment didn’t feel right to her, because he wasn’t lashing out. One of his hands transferred her wrist to his other hand, using one hand to pin her down entirely while the other moved to caress her breast, flicking his thumb over her nipple. “I really am curious as to how you’ve come so far in this life with that fucking insolent mouth of yours.” When he squeezed her breast she tried to hold back a moan, but he heard it clearly, the man chuckling. His hand moved away from her breast and Elizabeth relaxed slightly, until she felt them elsewhere, slipping under her nightgown to sink into her entrance. She inhaled sharply and her head tilted back, unable to make any noise other than the sounds that slipped past her lips.

Eric grinned, fingering her thoroughly, “It’s amazing that you’re so loud and obnoxious until I have you at my mercy, and suddenly you can’t say a word.” He was baiting her, it was clear in his voice. She did her best to keep in the moan that tried to escape her.

“F-fuck you—“

“But I’m already fucking you.” He replied sweetly, “You sound so much more pleasant when I’m pleasuring you, it’s almost like night and day.” He pressed his thumb against her clit, beginning to circle it. She only whimpered and arched up. “Oh, you don’t have anything else to call me? Am I still a fat fuck?”

She wondered how he learned to be so talented with his hands, because they were managing to make it hard for her to argue with him. Jolts of pleasure travelled up her spine and she continued to moan pitifully. She soon felt his lips on hers and she reacted instantly, allowing his tongue to push past her lips and taste her, taking her breath away while he continued to coil that string inside of her until it was taut. She moaned against his mouth, not realizing that he had released her wrists to fondle her breast, his thumb and forefinger pinching and gently twisting her nipple. This was what she was fantasizing about, right? Those hands on her, in her, feeling the strength and force. It wasn’t long until those hands brought her into climax and the kiss broke just as her orgasm rushed through her. “My king!” She cried out, breathing heavily as it left her twitching, the tingling sensation lingering inside of her despite his hands having left. She felt sated and tired, her eyes shutting. She didn’t feel him remove her glasses, only curling up next to him when he shifted to the side.

Eric curled his hands around her waist, smirking. “You talk a big game until I have you where I want you, and soon you’re just melting all over me.” He mused, speaking softly in her ear, “It’s like I found your biggest weakness, and I plan to exploit that as much as possible.”

Elizabeth didn’t bother to reply, too tired to argue with him.

* * *

It didn’t really matter if she was locked up in that one room or given freedom to roam the castle, having this collar didn’t change her status, it only stood as a beacon to the rest of the castle that she had given into the King. Being a ‘pet’ was nothing more than a title, at least, in her mind.

She had woken up in the King’s bed, Eric was already gone, having begun his own duties for the day and leaving her alone. She figured that she was free to roam the castle, as long as she didn’t step foot outside without him. All she could do was wander around and read.

She assumed she was alone, but no, maids were with her when she awoke, ready and willing to attend to her, on command of the King. She didn’t understand, she was just a pet, the King’s dog, and yet he wanted to spoil her like a princess. They led her to the bath and insisted on washing her, something she wanted to do herself, but wasn’t allowed. The bathroom was more lavish then the one she was in before, the shelves around the bath itself filled to the brim with small bottles with no labels. A few went into the bath water, making it smell sweet, while her hair was treated with three more. There was no concept of shampoo or conditioner, but whatever was in the bottles managed to clean her up better than how she was used to.

She had to watch herself, the last thing she needed to do was get used to this special treatment and have it torn away from her. Eric had a temper that went off at the smallest of things. But then, so did _she_.

When the bath was done she was taken back into the bedroom, a new dress laying out onto the freshly made bed. This one was green, dark as a forest. She preferred the color to red, but still not being given any undergarments. A voice inside of her head warned her about kindness and deception.

The collar was still prominent around her neck, it wasn’t something she could forget about easily. It was ever-present, and as much as she hated it she knew that if she took it off, the consequences wouldn’t be good. As much as she wanted to take it off, she had to hold herself back. It was her physical price for a little more freedom, though a reminder of what she had done to get it.

After she was dressed, the maids had left the room, and Elizabeth was alone. The woman wondered just how she went from being so defiant to so submissive so quickly when it came to him. Where did her pride go? Where was that fire? Did she throw it all away for strong hands and a silk tongue, or was he right and he did find her biggest weakness? She was confused, and while part of her hated the fact that she was willingly demeaning herself, the other part was actually enjoying this sudden change. It had to be Stockholm syndrome, it just had to.

She was starting to doubt her own logic…

After a moment of brooding Elizabeth finally left the room, she didn’t want to stand in one spot to think about her mistakes, she wanted a good distraction, so she began to look for a library. There must be something worth reading in this world, but given that it was Wonderland, it may just be a series of odd riddles.

She began to peek her head in each of the rooms, cautious, not knowing if Eric was inside any one of them. If the room looked uninteresting to her, she moved to the next room, and if there was something worth looking at, she would walk in and inspect it. That was the routine, up until she peeked her head in a study. From the door she could see two towers of bookshelves on either side of a desk, stacked with papers. She slowly stepped inside, her eyes sweeping the room. It was the same pattern, blood-red decor, drapes, carpet. Off to the side was a bureau, lacquered in black stain with golden handles, on it was a stand that carried a sword, a thick and heavy sword that looked used, but still gleaming in the light. She had a wandering thought until dropping it. She didn’t know how to use a sword, and it would be a stupid task to even _try_.

After one more moment gazing at the sword she finally turned away, looking at the opposite wall. She paused, her eyes focusing on what was on the second bureau, an elegant and finely crafted violin and its bow, sitting on a plush satin pillow. She walked over to it immediately, gazing adoringly at the instrument. Her hand slowly moved to ghost the wood, admiring the crafting and the color, black. She remembered him telling her, don’t touch his things. She didn’t care at the moment, her fingers touching the strings and running delicately across them, her other hand moving to the bow while the first picked up the instrument itself. In her captivity, she wouldn’t deny herself a chance to play something she loved. She didn’t care if this belonged to the King.

She stepped back and thought, going with what she was feeling and testing the strings, the sound that came from them was immaculate, and she closed her eyes, beginning to play. The music started off low, steadily growing louder. It was a sad and somber piece from Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in its second movement. The longer she played, the more she was lost to the piece, the castle walls falling away, everyone vanishing from her mind, all that was here was herself and the music she was playing.

The music carried, from the room and down the corridors, trapping maids that passed by. They stopped their task, listening to the sad piece. From there the music travelled downward, every note filling the entire castle and catching everyone’s attention. They weren’t used to this, it wasn’t a piece they’ve heard before. Only their Master played that violin, and it was usually intense and powerful music.

From outside the castle, the King was meeting with his Paige, a brunette with amber eyes. “The King of Hearts found a replacement Queen.” Said the man.

Eric took the missive, reading it, “So a role was chosen?”

“Her name was Alice.” Said the other, “She arrived in the Land of Hearts by the looking glass, but there was a problem. She managed to leave, taking the Cat with her.”

Eric looked thoughtful, the two of them beginning to enter the castle, “You’re telling me that they found their Queen in an outsider yet she ran away.”

“Apparently she was in a love affair with the Cat.” Clyde explained, “He wanted to leave his role, and they fled and the White Rabbit destroyed the looking glass.”

That didn’t make sense, “You can’t escape your role, it’s impossible.”

“You say that, but they had just done it.” Clyde grinned, “Another Cat has already been found, but there isn’t any Queen. No one is sure if it’s still Alice or no other role is being chosen.” He paused after that, “Have you checked the looking glass to find your Queen?”

Eric scoffed, “I’m not bothered with the absence of a Queen, I’m running this kingdom fine on my own.”

“You can’t hold it off forever, my King, another role has to be chosen!”

“I’m _aware_ of that, Clyde.” The King bit out, “The previous Queen was inept and ill-efficient, just look at what she had done with the Queen of Hearts. I want to find one befit for this kingdom, _me_ , I want to choose the role myself. I’m not allowing anyone else to fill the role until I find someone suitable to rule at my side.”

Before Clyde could even respond the music everyone’s been hearing inside of the castle had fallen onto their ears. They stopped talking entirely, listening to the raw emotion that could be placed into a single song. It was clear that this sonata wasn’t one they hadn’t heard before.

“My King?” Clyde whispered, “Who’s playing that?”

Eric handed the missive back to Clyde, “Stay.” He commanded, heading up the stairwell. There was only one violin in the castle, his own violin. Which meant that someone had broken his rules and touched what was _his_ , but he was conflicted, for he wouldn’t expect anyone to be able to play, much less a servant. He passed the maids and guards, who were still in deep recollection, a few maids tearing up from the emotions outpouring from every note. He paid them no mind, ascending the second stairwell and making his way to the corridor he needed to be. He could see them, a small crowd of servants huddled around the door, listening in and watching whoever it was that was playing. He made his way over there, still not knowing what to do when he arrived. Someone who could play such beautiful music had importance to him, a song he had never heard played. Did they create it themselves or was it from a far-off land?

When Eric approached the crowd, everyone realized who was with them and quickly dispersed, allowing the King a moment to look in on the player. When he pushed the door open further his heart stammered in his chest, his eyes locked on Elizabeth. She was the one playing his violin, and she played it so well, as if she had been born with one in her hands. He stood there, transfixed on the sight before him, watching her hands move so elegantly, her fingers deftly pressing the right cords, he never knew a pair of hands could be so delicate. From the look on her face she was focused solely on her piece, never pausing or faltering, there were no mistakes, her playing was as fluid as liquid silk. He raised his hand to his chest, feeling the erratic beating of his heart, this woman was giving him feelings he hadn’t felt in a long time. They weren’t unpleasant, neither was she.

He remembered his earlier conversation, smiling. If he had to pick anyone as his Queen…

It was _her_.

When Elizabeth had finished her song she felt relaxed, as it did every time she had played her own violin. Pouring her emotions in her strings was the only way to make her feel revived. Though, once she moved the violin from her chin she could hear the door shut. She jumped at the sound, pulling the instrument to herself and looking over to see Eric standing there, watching her with an unreadable expression. “Ah—“ She looked down at the violin, remembering what the King had told her earlier.

“It was interesting to return to my castle just in time to hear you play. I dare say, you had everyone in tears.”

Elizabeth’s face went warm and she tore her gaze away, moving back to the bureau to set the violin back on its pillow. “I played since I was three.” She explained to him, “I…had no idea you did the same.”

“I play when I’m stressed, I’m sure you know how that’s like.”

The woman hugged herself, remembering all those times she played when her anxiety built up, “I know it well.” She answered quietly, looking over at him. She tried to envision him playing the same violin, getting an image of a passionate man, intense pieces coming from his strings. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you play one day.”

It was Eric’s turn to look away, never having heard his previous Queen express the interest in his music, much less anyone else. All she cared about was herself. “Just where did you come from to be so highly talented? Are you the daughter of a Duchess?”

“I’m the daughter of a doctor.” Elizabeth told him. “What you call an outsider?”

Eric felt curious, going over to one of the chairs to sit down, he never really did learn about her… “Tell me.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, it’s in a different era. There’s things such as cars, technology and we can send people up into space. More advanced than Wonderland.” She went to the other chair, sitting on it, “There are many countries, but only a few are governed by Kings and Queens, however it would take me ages to explain to you the intricacies of all the different cultures.”

“I meant yourself, I rather know about _you_.” Eric clarified, despite her world sounding interesting.

Elizabeth thought about it for a moment, “I’m in college, which is an advanced institution for learning. I’m studying to be a doctor myself, but for the mind. It’s called Psychiatry.”

He leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees. This woman was a mystery to him. Her world sounded vastly different, scholars were few and far between, and they were rarely women. “You must be of a higher class if you’re allowed into such a place.”

The way Eric said it told her enough, that Wonderland was nearly similar to the past when women held little to no power unless they were born in a royal line. “I’m nothing but a commoner, my King.”

The admission that she held no standing perplexed and intrigued him all the same, she was on the lowest class level, yet she was well educated and possessed the air of importance. He remembered the moment they had met pretty well, no commoner acted so defiant towards a king, especially _him_. He was well known in his own kingdom as a cruel and mad king, someone who didn’t think twice before running his blade through another’s throat. This woman carried herself as if she was anything but.

“How did you end up here?” He wondered.

Elizabeth crossed her legs, “At first I thought I fell asleep…though I actually came here through a mirror…it was in the library of my college. I…said I wanted to go away, enter a world where…”

_“Wait isn’t that Elizabeth’s sister?”_

_“Oh god, they don’t even look the same.”_

_“You wouldn’t believe that she’s related to her. They seem like polar opposites.”_

_“Well someone had to be the mean-tempered bitch.”_

She felt a piercing pain through her heart. “I wanted to escape my world.”

The admission that she came here to escape her own world sounded strange, “I would assume you held a high standing in your own world, aren’t you someone of importance?”

_“Oh god no, I can’t imagine her with a guy period. She’s a horrible person, who would even love that personality?”_

_“What personality? Bitch isn’t a personality. She’s going to grow old and die alone.”_

“I’m not important at all.” Her voice was faint, but Eric could hear her. He looked at her, seeing the tears that pricked her eyes. Elizabeth was doing her best not to cry, but it hurt too much. The realization was just barreling into her. No one cared about her, she wasn’t liked at all. She left, and no one noticed, people had probably rejoiced that the frigid bitch Elizabeth Horowitz had disappeared. She couldn’t fight the tears anymore, “I was never important!” She cried out, shoving her head into her hands and sobbing as the pain overwhelmed her.

Eric sat there, silent. In the time periods that had passed he had never seen her cry. No matter what he put her through, she never shed a tear, but upon mentioning her world, she broke down into wracking sobs.

He suddenly felt the urge to take it out on those who had made her cry.

* * *

For some reason, seeing her so miserable made his chest constrict. Eric couldn’t do much of anything besides carrying her back to the bedroom, the woman having unleashed a torrential downfall of tears after confessing to why she had arrived here, and even after he laid her down onto the bed, Elizabeth hadn’t gotten better.

“It’s amazing…” She moaned out pitifully, wiping her tears away with a kerchief he had given her.“That being made a prisoner to a cruel king had been a better experience than my entire life.”

Eric was sitting next to the lying woman, concerned and curious over her breakdown. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not liked.” She turned to her side, “I’m not even loved. I’m a twin, I have a sister, but she’s the preferred child. I was always an afterthought. It didn’t matter if it was inside or outside of my family, my father was overly concerned with _Her_ to pay attention to me. Alice got whatever she wanted, Alice was the favorite. Alice was _popular_.” She breathed, her breath hitching when she tried her hardest not to cry again.

_“Her name was Alice. She arrived in the Land of Hearts by the looking glass.”_

“I had trouble with everything…violin was the only thing I was good at. I was socially inept, I didn’t know how to deal with _people_. She always sought out attention, she loved attention and basked in it. She became the popular one, and I was always in the background…quiet. I was always quiet.”

The King reached over to trace his fingers along her leg, “You’re not quiet.” He said then.

She shot him a glare, moving her leg away and sitting back up, “I struggled my ass off to become like this.” She hissed out. “I only found my voice in my junior year of highschool… people didn’t like my voice.” Elizabeth paused for a moment, “I lashed out violently…mostly towards boys. I never took any bullshit from anyone, I was a cold person and I was stubborn. People called me a frigid bitch and I was never liked by anyone…”

“Sounds about right.” Eric said then, smirking slightly when she glared at him again. “You’re the most violent woman I’ve ever seen since the previous Queen of Hearts, and that’s saying something.”

“I don’t know if that’s an insult or a compliment.” Elizabeth said harshly, looking away from him. It wasn’t long until a finger hooked her chin and her gaze was brought back to him.

“Coming from me, that’s more than a compliment. I’m the most feared King in all of these four Kingdoms, and I take that title with pride.”

Elizabeth snorted, “I’ve yet to see it.”

The man pulled her closer to him, “That’s only because I’ve taken a liking to you. Do you really think I’m this kind to anyone?”

“ _Kind_.” She repeated sarcastically, “You abused me.”

“You spat in my face.” He retorted, “You spat in a _King’s_ face. You also insulted me. Do you honestly believe that I would let that go by unpunished?”

The woman fell silent after that, looking away. “Do you honestly think that I would allow myself to be broken?”

Eric hooked his finger around her collar, “What are you wearing again?” He was smirking now, and she only glared at him.

She fell silent, sighing, “I’m a pitiful person to willingly demean myself just the second someone shows me the slightest bit of kindness.” She laughed hollowly. “How _disgusting_ of me.”

Eric didn’t like what was happening, this beautiful and headstrong woman becoming so broken and miserable. It didn’t sit well with him, not after everything he’s heard, everything he saw. Within the past dozen time periods he was presented with a woman with many faucets, like a gemstone that was forged with fire, and now that fire was being taken out so easily…it honestly pained him to see her like this, and so he did the only thing he could, pulling her closer so he could capture her lips into a searing kiss. Elizabeth didn’t expect it, being taken aback but not breaking away, feeling herself be compelled to give in. No matter that, he made her body go hot and she couldn’t pull away, the kiss lasting until one of them needed to breathe. When Eric finally pulled away, his eyes were alight with desire.

She was the one he’d been looking for.

“You’re not what you say you are.” He began, kissing her again, it was stronger this time, but he ripped it away quickly, grasping her. “I see more than what you do. I see an elegant and educated lady that carries herself better than most women I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” He got up from the bed, pulling her to her feet. “Strip.” His voice was strong and had little room for interpretation, and the commanding presence had Elizabeth folding quickly, managing to unzip her dress just as fast, the garment pooling around her and leaving her bare. Eric managed to do the same, and soon Elizabeth realized what was going to happen, the anxiety and tension building up inside of her.

“Eric—“

“That’s not what you address me as.” He reminded her, pushing her down back to the bed, “I’m going to treat you how you deserve to be treated.” He whispered into her ear. Elizabeth’s emotions were conflicted. What did he mean by that, like the pet that she was? This was it, wasn’t it? He was going to strip her of the little dignity she had left and then leave her, just like everyone else.

She expected some kind of roughness and force like before, a fist in her hair, some sort of pain, but what she got was the feeling of the very things that had her mind wandering in the first place. His strong hands along her body. She was pulled against him but she didn’t get a chance to move, one arm hooking under one of her legs while his other hand trailed itself down to her entrance. She could feel him kissing the back of her neck as soon as his fingers delved inside of her, and she gasped. As much as she tried to hate his touch it was always like fire. Something about this was different, the touch was more like a caress and not violent. He used his fingers expertly, brushing along the right spots. Elizabeth couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped her and he continued to kiss her, from the back of her neck and to her shoulder.

“Just relax and feel.” He told her softly, and Elizabeth nodded helplessly, melting into his grasp and allowing herself just that, feeling. He possessed a violinist’s hands, his fingers knowing just where to go. Her breath came out in a shudder and she allowed herself to shut her eyes, only feeling the jolts of pleasure that he was eliciting from her body. Eventually his thumb went for her clit and began to stroke it, making Elizabeth moan louder, her body quaking in his grasp. He was pulling that string taught inside of her again, growing tighter and tighter on each brush until it threatened to break. She was breathing out words, “Please,” and “Yes,”, so silently and Eric only chuckled. “Remember, be vocal.” He said cooly, and Elizabeth nodded obediently, her words coming out louder now, his stroking becoming faster and firm until that cord inside of her finally snapped and she cried out, her body shuddering against his as she came onto his hands. Eric looked pleased, bringing his fingers up to her mouth, “Lick.” He commanded, and she complied, tasting herself on his fingers. She took her time in cleaning him off until he was satisfied, and he shifted her in his arms until she was under him. She stared up at him, her hair pooled around her. Her heart was pounding wildly as he stared back down at her. This was different, she realized. This wasn’t the same, forceful King that she was a witness to. He stared at her not with lust, but with some kind of affection that she never had seen in his eyes. He took his time in studying her, his fingers ghosting over her breasts and grazing her waist until they took a firm but gentle hold. She realized then that this was actually happening, opening her mouth to speak until one look from him stopped whatever was going to escape her mouth. He looked pleased at that, placing her hand on his arm before positioning himself.

“If it hurts just tighten your hold.” He instructed her, and Elizabeth nodded slightly, feeling him start to push in. She felt the pain immediately, tightening her hand on his arm. He stopped then, waiting for her to relax her hold. When she eventually done so he continued, going as gently as possible until he was fully inside of her. Her hand kept tight around his arm, her breaths coming quick as she tried to get used to the feeling of him inside of her. This was very, very different. He was being… gentle.

When her grip had finally relaxed Eric started up again, and that’s when Elizabeth began experiencing a different King, someone who was perceived to be frightening and cruel, being gentle and patient. Elizabeth didn’t know what to make of it, and when she started to feel pleasure from his movements she began to whimper. He kept his hands firmly on her small waist, making sure not to hold her too tight, moving rhythmically. It was a feeling that she had never had the chance to experience before, each thrust bringing out a pleased moan or sigh. When she initially thought about him doing this she assumed he was going to be forceful and rough, but no, he was handling her like she was made of porcelain, but with every movement he knew just where to angle himself, brushing all the right spots like his fingers did before. Though, this felt way, way different than fingers. She felt full, she could feel him pulsating inside of her, it felt like he was made of fire and was burning her from the inside out, and she wanted nothing more than to melt all around him.

“Be vocal.” He reminded her, the man wanting nothing more than to go faster and deeper, but he was holding himself back with strategic concentration. He wanted to convey a message to her, he wanted to imprint this memory in her mind as something she wouldn’t regret. The sounds he was eliciting from her wasn’t helping with his control, because he knew he could make her scream and beg for more. He wanted to hear her scream his name, but he couldn’t, not just yet.

Elizabeth could clearly see his concentration, the way he was doing his best not to take it to another level. She was growing curious, suddenly wanting to feel what it was like when he fully lost control. It was the same line of thinking like when she began imagining those hands around her throat, the kind of thoughts that sat in the back of her mind and only surfaced at random. She reached up and managed to pull him down for another kiss, moaning quietly against his lips. Dare she tempt the fire to consume her?

“Stop holding back,” She found herself saying before she realized what was being said, and she could see it in his eyes, the inferno that was keeping itself at bay.

“If that’s what you want.”

The change was quick. His grip became tighter, almost possessive while his thrusts became more sharp and violent. Elizabeth cried out in shock, her eyes going wide as the fire that was burning her began to ignite and spread. She gripped his arms quickly but no amount of tightening would quell the beast she had awakened. Something about the change in ferocity made her quake in need, and suddenly that line of thinking wasn’t so bad after all, the woman gasping and whimpering with every thrust and feeling a wave of intense pleasure that was drowning her more and more. She found that it was better than what he was doing before, that she rather enjoyed this, the evidence in being the heightened volume of her moans, Elizabeth pleading loudly for more and more. Eric was encouraged by her cries, intent on making her scream and making sure to hit the one angle that could make that happen.

That cord of pleasure began to pull itself taught inside of her, and she was starting to tear up, the pain and pleasure mixing together and making her beg, her body arched with his thrusts and she whimpered loudly, wanting nothing more than to drown in the flames and burn away into ashes. When the cord finally snapped Elizabeth was screaming out her climax, “ERIC!” She cried, her orgasm jolting through her like electricity that reached every nerve and vessel, further triggering his own as he felt himself lose control, unravelling as he pumped her full of his seed before all the pent-up energy and fire had left him his body thrumming in residual pleasure.

Elizabeth felt everything leave her and she was placed in a transient state of bliss, feeling him remove himself from her only to pull her against him, the man resting behind her. She felt calm, more relaxed than she did when she was falling apart, and it was all because of _him_.

Eric curled his arm around her waist, a surge of emotion overwhelming him. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to be with this woman, to keep her safe. He wanted to make her happy and please her. His heart was still hammering in his chest, this is what love felt like. He didn’t want to lose this feeling, he didn’t want to lose _her_. He never wanted her to leave his side.

“Become my Queen.” He said it softly in her ear, making Elizabeth’s eyes open. She felt her own heart reverberating through her whole body. This man, this stranger, this powerful and fearsome King, wanted her to be his. No one could ruin this for her.

“Yes.” She whispered, resting contentedly in his arms.

* * *

When Elizabeth awoke the next morning she wasn’t alone, still in the King’s arms. A smile graced her lips when she realized that it wasn’t a dream at all. When she went to stretch she felt his strong arms move away from her, the man having been awake for longer than she.

“Good morning.” Elizabeth turned to face him, catching his chocolate brown eyes.

“One of the better mornings I’ve had thus-far.” He admitted, “I’m going to be distracted most of the day, I want you to be crowned as soon as possible and that means a ton of planning.”

Elizabeth was uncertain, the anxieties and insecurities from before flooding into her mind, “Why do you want me to be your Queen?” She didn’t think that highly of herself that he would choose her. Why would he choose her? No one ever did.

_“No one will ever love you.”_

“I know it sounds unbelievable.” He shifted her so she was in his arms. “But there’s something about you. You have strength, you have passion. You’re not afraid of anything, especially when it’s someone who could have easily slit your throat.” He grinned, “You’re smart and elegant and…I may be speaking selfishly but I want you all to myself. I’ve haven’t felt this way for someone before.”

“What about the previous Queen?” She questioned, her own self-doubts enough to combat an honest confession.

“She and I were polar opposites.” He said then, “We didn’t choose each other, we were chosen to bare the roles as King and Queen. I didn’t care for her. She was superficial and only enjoyed gossiping with the Queen of Hearts—the _previous_ Queen. I was just there to do the work.”

Elizabeth nodded a little, “What…happened to her?”

“The dumb bitch thought it was a good idea to eat the Queen of Hearts’s favorite tarts and she got pissed off and raged a war onto the Land of Spades. They killed each other in the heat of battle.” Eric cringed a little, “Whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore anyway. You’re better suited.”

“It’s flattering that you think so highly of me.” She was blushing now, and Eric’s finger went to her chin, directing her lips to his for another kiss.

“It’s more than that.” He said quietly, “I’ve come to love you.”

_“You’re just an unlovable person.”_

_“I’d be amazed if someone could even tolerate you.”_

_“No one’s going to love your attitude.”_

Elizabeth fell silent, her heart pounding again. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes and she turned sharply to hook her arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him again. The tears were falling now, and she was unable to stop them.

She’s come to love him as well.

“If I take on the role, is this similar to a marriage?” She asked then, her voice shaky.

“Until death.” Eric smiled slightly, “I wouldn’t dream of having anyone else at my side and I refuse to take anyone other than you.”

This wasn’t a light decision, becoming a role holder meant a binding contract, a marriage between two people, and he _wanted_ to be with her.

She came to this world to escape hers, wanting one where she was important, and through being a prisoner under a King’s rule she became something else, something entirely different.

She became _wanted_.

Elizabeth couldn’t see herself ever wanting to go back to her own world. No, Wonderland was her home now, and she didn’t ever want to turn back.

* * *

The coronation was planned for the next daylight time period, while the rest of the evening was spent preparing for then. Eric wanted everyone to be there, he wanted the people of his village to see his new Queen. He made sure to invite any dukes or duchesses that lived in the kingdom. The servants were put under strict stress to get the palace clean for the day, and Elizabeth was left to her own devices, the woman deciding to read in Eric’s study. She was right about her assumptions of the books, they were riddles and rhymes, but one book in particular caught her attention.

It was a curious tale about a girl that awoke in a futuristic kingdom. Machines have evolved into something awe-inspiring, there were things that could only be thought of as what Elizabeth called normal. It spoke of invisible signals of information that float through the air and into your ears, mirrors that allowed you to converse with people in other countries, almost in other worlds. Carriages that moved on their own and were powered by oil, and tall, monolithic structures that people lived in. The book was interesting because it was talking about her world, Everything it was talking about was something she knew personally; internet, cars, tablets and phones, it was like someone from this world had come to her own and decided to write of their experience.

She wondered just that. If Elizabeth could somehow fall into this world, then could the opposite be true? Could someone from Wonderland go all the way to her home and experience what she had grown up with? It seemed to be possible, and when she thought of the initial tale of Wonderland she wondered if Lewis Carrol had somehow found a way here. That meant there was a way to go back. Though, the more she thought about her own world, the more she didn’t wish to return.

While her beginning in this world was not a preferred one, she had found someone in this world that was just as smart as she was and mirrored her personality, and he wanted her to become the ruler of this kingdom. It wasn’t a fickle thought, he honestly thought that she was good enough to be a Queen. She honestly couldn’t even fancy the thought of going back home, not when she would be leaving _him_ behind, and a responsibility that she wanted to take on. A smile graced her features as she thought about the things she could do, improving on villages, speaking for the voiceless, even providing to those who didn’t have anything. A public library would be a wonderful addition here, wouldn’t it? She would help educate the people.

She understood the downsides. There wasn’t any technology, or internet or computers, but she was never the type to use any of it that much, those things were more for her sister than for her. She still had books, and the violin…

She looked over at the violin again, how it was just sitting on that velvet pillow waiting to be played. She’d go back to it soon, she thought, returning to the book in her hands. Her finger stayed on a page while she re-checked the title, _A Precarious World_. She had to agree with the author, her world was precarious indeed.

Her mind wandered, and she began thinking about her sister. Staying here meant having to leave Alice behind. She would never see her again. Elizabeth didn’t feel anything wrong with that, they were in their own different worlds. Alice had her technology, her inventions and her government contract. Alice also had a fiancee. If Elizabeth were to disappear then she had a feeling Alice wouldn’t mind so much. She had other people in her life…

Though it wouldn’t be right staying away without some kind of notice. Perhaps she would send someone to give her a missive. That way she wouldn’t worry, if she ever did.

She tried to get back to the book in her hands, but the task was forgotten when Eric had entered the room. “There you are.”

Elizabeth placed the book in her lap, “Here I am.” She smiled a little, holding up the book. “I’ve found a book that describes my world.” She reached out when he stepped closer so he could take the book, and Eric grabbed it, looking over the title.

“Oh I’ve read that,” He paused for a minute, “Wait you live in _THAT_?” He looked bewildered.

“I have a theory, that if one of ours found your world and one of yours found our world then we’re connected somehow.”

“Looking glass.” He said, “there’s one in every chapel in the kingdom. Only the royal family knows about them. They connect you wherever you want to go, through other looking glasses that it may find.”

“Should you be telling me?” She queried, quirking a brow.

“You’re going to know soon enough.” Eric shrugged, “Though, I do worry that you would try and leave.” He already decided upon meeting her that if she did try he’d break her legs, but she didn’t need to know that.

Elizabeth leaned against him, “I want to stay.”

Hearing those four words made him feel warmth, and his hand found hers, their fingers interlacing. “Then there’s no use for the looking glass, unless you want one of our Paiges to retrieve something for you.”

She thought about it, “I may need to send a message…”

He nodded, opening the book again to skim it, still amazed that she came from there, “You have no Kings or Queens.”

“It depends on what country you’re in.”

“…how many countries are there?”

“One-hundred and ninety six.” She didn’t miss a beat in replying, and Eric shut the book to stare at her. He couldn’t think of anything to say to follow that statement.

To think there was a world that large, it made Wonderland look small in comparison. He was having trouble thinking about it.

“Holy shit.” He finally uttered, taking a moment to recover from the revelation and remembering what he was here for, “I actually came here to give you something.”

She straightened up, “Oh?”

Eric nodded, “What I was retrieving was in here, but you being here makes it easier for me to find you.” He stood up and set the book aside, heading to the bureau where his violin sat, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a black satin box. He smiled slightly and returned to her, taking back his spot. “Turn around.” He commanded.

Elizabeth looked curious, but did it anyway, placing her hands in her lap and waiting. What she felt, however, was Eric unhooking the collar around her neck. The tightness that she had grown used to was taken away and suddenly she felt exposed without it. She was about to turn before something else took over that spot, and Elizabeth felt it, cold gemstones. He secured it to her neck and smiled fully. “Turn forward.”

She did it, her hand still on the necklace as Eric looked over the difference, getting up to grab a mirror and bringing it over to her. Elizabeth took it, her eyes looking over the piece of jewelry. It was a thick necklace made mostly out of emeralds set in white gold facets. Elizabeth’s words fell short and all she could do was stare at the necklace, looking over at him questioningly.

“Call this one a more discreet version of this.” He held up the original collar, grinning. “Queen or not, you’re still my pet.”

The woman blushed heavily, her mouth going dry as the anxiety inside of her threatened to unleash butterflies in her stomach. She finally pulled on a smile, leaning forward to kiss him while trying not to falter in her actions.

“It’s perfect.” She whispered.

It was better than anything she had been given.

With another kiss the light suddenly altered, and the two of them looked to the window, noting that it was currently daylight. Eric grinned at the sight and took Elizabeth’s hand, standing up and pulling her with him.

“Are you ready to become Queen?” He questioned.

Elizabeth smiled earnestly at him, “I feel like I’ve been waiting for this all my life.”

His grip on her hand tightened, and he pulled it up to his lips to kiss it. “I believe we were meant to find each other.”

Elizabeth looked back out the window, watching a raven fly past the sky.

“You may be right.”

* * *

Time periods passed since the coronation, and Elizabeth was proving to be a good Queen already. She was becoming known to be kinder than the King of Spades, yet still possessed the same kind of wrath that he was known for. No one wanted to get on her bad side. Yet, despite Elizabeth having chosen the role as Queen, Eric still fretted. He worried that Wonderland didn’t accept her into the Queen’s role, and that someone else was still carrying the role. He needed to make sure that wasn’t the case, because if it was, he’d send someone out to murder them in cold blood.

He wasn’t going back on his decision.

With him were the twins, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, his Paiges. Tweedle Dee was a brunette wearing crutches, walking on a limp and talked with a stutter, while Tweedle Dum was also known as Tweedle Dumbass, the same brunette that alerted him of what happened in the Land of Hearts.

“So if there’s another Q-Q-Quh—Quheeen, you want the Ace of Spades on them, right boss?” Jimmy questioned as the trio had stepped into the chapel.

Eric was rightly nervous, but he didn’t show it. “Correct. They’re not to live to see the next time period. Our Queen is already perfect.”

“She’s pretty freakin hot too.” Clyde said without thinking, freezing up when Eric turned to glare in his direction, “I mean if you like that sort of thing, I’m not saying that I’m _attracted_ —“

“You’re so lucky that you’re a role holder.” Eric mumbled, trying to reign in his possessive jealousy. Clyde was the only man stupid enough to make a pass at Elizabeth the first time they met, the problem was that Clyde was a masochist and liked it when she smacked him.

The man only smiled nervously, “Hey, remember that saying; don’t shoot the messenger? Because I rather not be shot, you know.”

“Just shut up.” Eric groaned, proceeding forward down the aisle. It was only three time periods since they coronated her, and he didn’t know if that would work, if she could still be crowned if she wasn’t chosen for the role, but it went off without a hitch, and ever since then the crown stayed atop of her head; a lovely crown made of white gold and onyxes in the shape of spades.

The only one who could see the King’s nervousness was Jimmy, who knew well not to talk about it. He never seen Eric so nervous in his life, it almost made him look something other than the cruel and heartless King that everyone had come to know.

The two men stood behind Eric as he stepped closer to the mirror, and Eric could feel his anticipation. This was it, wasn’t it? This was the moment he was finally going to see who was chosen for him as Queen. He didn’t care if he had to kill the chosen Queen fifteen hundred times, just as long as he got to keep Elizabeth.

“Show me who the Queen is.” He said it in a hard commanding voice, feeling his hands shake ever so slightly. He stared at his reflection, watching as the surface began to ripple and warp.

There in front of him was the image of a woman, auburn hair down to her shoulders, wearing the same glasses she had on since she had arrived there. She was playing the violin, smiling from ear to ear as she played a happy tune. Eric’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, and a relieved sigh passed through his lips. This meant that Wonderland accepted his choice. Elizabeth was rightfully the Queen, and nothing could take that away from her.

Clyde watched on as Elizabeth continued to play the violin, “God she’s hot,” He said mostly to himself, but Eric and Jimmy were able to hear him.

“Clyde I’m going to blind you so you won’t be able to see shit.” Eric commented harshly, catching the man off-guard.

“Hey it’s not my fault that she’s hot, I mean you picked her so you must have seen it! Don’t take it out on me!” He shouted in defense.

“No shit dumbass, I know she’s hot.” Eric kept his eyes on her until the image rippled back into his reflection. He smiled in satisfaction.

“She’s also mine, so back off.”

-END


End file.
